


Don't Look Back in Anger

by tigersbride



Series: Hollywood [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Actor Castiel (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Castiel and Mental Health Issues, Celebrity Dean Winchester, Come as Lube, Coming In Pants, Dean and Mental Health Issues, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, Healing, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Married Couple, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-01-05 17:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 52
Words: 223,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12194823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigersbride/pseuds/tigersbride
Summary: A year has passed since their wedding in London, a whole year of complete, marital bliss. Castiel remains one of Hollywood's biggest stars, while at his side Dean keeps up his charity work to help kids out of lives like his. Life is good. Not perfect, probably never will be, but things are better than either of them could ever have dreamed to hope for, and every day, they get better still. The past was still painful, but the therapy was helping and the future was more important. Their future, together.So where do they go from here? What do they do now?There are still challenges along their road. One of which is figuring out how to use their words.





	1. Every Day You're Here I'm Healing

The water was warm and gentle against his tired skin. It was just what Castiel needed after a long day on set. The glorious feel of Dean’s naked body behind him only helped matters, and as Cas rested his head back against his husband’s shoulder he felt completely at peace. The fresh air blew past them, the cool breeze a delightful contrast to the hot jacuzzi water. Dean hummed happily, bringing a hand up to coarse light fingers through Castiel’s hair while they began to unwind. 

“I don’t know why we don’t do this more often.” Dean whispered, a smile against his lips. Castiel could only nod in response while his body relaxed out. “You need to take more time out to relax, you know. You’re working too much again at the moment.” 

Castiel let out a gentle sigh, rolling his head to meet his husband’s loving gaze. “I know. I’m sorry.” He said softly. “Deadlines.” 

“I know.” Dean nodded. They sat together in a comfortable silence for a few long moments while Dean traced Castiel’s abs with his index finger and nuzzled his head against his cheek. It was these little moments that left them perfectly happy, wanting and needing nothing but the feel of each other. “We should take another vacation.” 

Almost a whole year had passed since their wedding in London, a whole year of complete marital bliss. It seemed to Dean like another life, when he looked back on his past. The memories were clouded in a murky fog that he kept there to protect himself from the pain within them. But this, his new life was his present and future, and it made his heart swell. 

Their routine had stayed much the same, while their fame grew and grew. Castiel continued to act, picking up award after award for his outrageous talent while Dean had become the face of children’s rights. Together they had created a collaborated movement between many of the larger non-profit organisations between the US and UK that protected children, and promoted awareness of abuse and poverty. It was commonplace now for Dean to spot his face on the back of a bus or on a billboard, and there were many commercials out there in which he spoke confidently and courageously about his experiences growing up. Castiel had never been more proud of him, and his relief that his husband was finally healing bolstered his heart day by day. 

“We should go somewhere really remote, just get away from everything.” Dean continued, when Castiel made no response. “We could go to the Seychelles, or Mauritius.” 

Castiel smirked, turning to meet Dean’s gaze again. “We can’t take the yacht that far.” 

“I didn’t say anything about the yacht.” Dean reminded him, eyes lighting up. “We can fly.” 

A light tension entered the air they breathed while Castiel searched his husband’s eyes. It wasn't something they had ever talked about, but Dean knew that Cas had always wanted to know why he was so scared of flying. He knew that by not telling him that lone detail when he'd told him so much else, he was setting it apart as something different. It was, different that is. It had been so different that he’d never told anyone the details of his horrifying experience until a few months before. He’d been in therapy for well over a year now, and it had taken him this long to open up about it. He was only just able to think about it without feeling that familiar bubble of panic, horror and fear, but talking about it was still an almighty challenge. 

“Cas…?” Dean began, quite unsure how to continue. He wanted to tell him, he really did. He had done for a long while now. He hated that there was still this one secret between them. His husband turned his head toward him, redirecting his gaze, those beautiful blue eyes meeting his with a light, curious smile, like he so often wore.

“I need to tell you something.” Dean went on, and Castiel furrowed his brow, his head tilting naturally to the side like it always did when he was intrigued. Dean smiled at the familiarity of the gesture, but he looked away, his nerves overtaking his sensibility. It had seemed easier in the therapist’s chair. It had seemed more removed and distant from him, like he’d just been an observer, not the unwitting victim. 

“What is it, Dean?” Castiel hummed quietly, because Dean was still looking away and still silent. His fingers reached out to gently intertwine with Dean’s own.  

“Why I’m… why I’ve been so scared of flying.” Dean’s voice was barely louder than a whisper, and as he looked up to meet his husband’s eyes he watched them widen in apprehension and surprise, because by this point Castiel had all but written it off as one of the world’s many mysteries. “I want to tell you, so that we don’t ever have to talk about it again.” 

Castiel frowned, pulling away from Dean and turning to face him, reaching out and taking his hands in his own. He sat, waiting, patiently silent, while Dean gathered his thoughts and his courage. Castiel’s mind was a mess, because the not knowing had always driven him mad, and his wonderfully unhelpful imagination had taken great pleasure in filling in the blanks over the years since he’d learned of his husband’s abusive father. He’d wondered often, in the dark of night, if John had beat Dean or injured him while they were mile high. He wondered if it had been something physical, or something emotional, that had plagued Dean for all these years. Perhaps John had made his son smuggle drugs for him. Perhaps he’d trapped him in the seat until he’d pissed himself. Perhaps he’d taken him into the bathroom and landed his fists into his gut. His imagination was limited, really, because there was only so much he could have done on an airplane without other people noticing. But of course, true to form when it came to Dean’s past, his reality was worse than any of Castiel's imagined ones. 

“I… I was seven, or eight.” Dean began, his voice shaking and uneven, even more so than it had been when he’d relayed the story to Dr Nygard. “He took us on a vacation. I can’t even remember where.” He paused while the memory flashed in front of his eyes again, and despite himself, despite feeling completely safe, his chest began to tighten like it used to so often. “I was cold, tired, scared. I’d never been on a plane before. And my dad was sat next to me, and I was trapped there with him.” 

“After a few hours he took me by the shoulder and he told me to go to the bathroom. So I went. He told me not to lock the door.” Dean took a deep breath to steady himself, because it was getting harder and harder to suck the air in and Castiel could see it, was watching his husband descend back into that dark space while they relived it together. “This guy… this guy I didn’t know, still don’t know, came in with me.” 

Castiel stayed respectfully silent, but internally he was screaming. His heart was pounding violently, and tears were threatening his eyes while his breath was catching in his throat. He was simultaneously furious and disgusted, sympathetic and heartbroken. Dean had trailed off at the sight of his husband’s face, and he knew Castiel could tell where he was going with this.

"Don't scream, he said." Dean wasn't sure when he'd began to cry, but he brushed a tear from his cheek before it could drip down his chin. "He reached out to me and touched my hip. And he pulled out a camera. And..."

It was almost a relief that Dean trailed off, because Castiel was sure he didn't want to hear any more, and yet if Dean had wanted to carry on he wouldn't have been able to stop him. His brow had dropped in disgust and horror while his mind filled in the blanks, and it was breaking him to think of how scared Dean must have been, just a child. 

His husband looked away, and his arm folded across his middle automatically, but all Castiel wanted was to hold him. He leant forward, enveloping the broken man in his arms and pressing kisses into his temple as he clutched him close. He could feel the shuddering of Dean’s breaths, hovering on the verge of an attack but healed enough not to descend the rest of the way. 

After a few moments of silent contemplation, Dean took a gulp of fresh air and pulled back. Cas smiled as his thumb stroked down Dean’s cheek. “I love you.” He whispered. 

“I love you too.” Dean responded quietly, letting himself getting lost in the safety net of those eyes. It felt better now that it was out in the open, now that there were no secrets left — he was getting so much better. There was still hope for him to lead a perfectly normal life… but he still had some explaining to do. Castiel tugged on his hands, and Dean got the message, letting himself spin around as he took a seat between his lover’s legs, letting his back rest against Castiel’s chest and humming happily at the contact.

“You remember the first time we ever kissed? After I’d just slept with Cassie?” Dean asked, and Castiel nodded, shooting him a quizzical look. “I came to you because it had brought it all back to me. Because being with her… I don’t know, that’s why I was freaking out about it for all those weeks afterwards. That’s why I needed you that night I couldn’t sleep with Anna. I must have loved you by then, and that’s why it had to be you.” 

“If he wasn’t already dead I’d have killed him by now.” Castiel said after a reflective pause, a cold lack of forgiveness in his voice. He could go on, he could voice how distraught he was by all their years of lost time, how grateful he was that Dean somehow pulled through and made his way back to him, how guilty he felt that he’d left him in that situation, when he should have figured it out and been there for him. He could go on, but it had all been said before, and while he couldn’t change the past his sentiments might dampen their future. 

“I thought very seriously about killing him many a time.” Dean admitted cooly, and Castiel turned his head so that his husband wouldn’t see his shock. 

“Are you ok?” Cas whispered. 

“I am. Honestly.” Dean’s composure had returned, but with it his pain, although every time it got a little less. “Can we talk about something else? Anything else?” He paused. “How was your shoot today?” 

“Good.” Castiel hurried to allow the change in subject so his heart would stop hurting. He shot his husband a smile while he thought about his day’s work. He was midway through shooting a biopic of a physicist turned astronaut, and the information he’d had to absorb about space and the universe had fried his mind. “It’s really weird, though. When I think about how big the universe actually is, I feel so small and unimportant, and yet, when they tell me how many conditions had to have been met for life to even exist in the first place, I feel completely amazed. Given how small the chances are of us even being here, it’s just overwhelming that we’ve found each other, and that you’re so perfect.” 

Dean rolled his eyes, but a blush crept across his cheeks as Castiel stared at him with a doting gaze. His lips curled up in a smile when Cas leant in, and as they kissed he felt his wounds healing. He let out a gasp when Cas licked into him, and his hand found its way to the back of his husband’s neck as they pawed at each other with growing desperation. Dean wouldn’t admit it, but he was welcoming the arousal as a distraction from his pain. His cock started to stiffen, and the noises he let out had Castiel’s hardening behind his ass. Dean moaned when Cas’s hand darted under the water and met his hip. 

The hand moved no further, and Dean let his eyes flash open to meet his husband’s wary gaze. Castiel was asking for permission, he knew. Respectfully protecting him, just like always. He considered rolling his eyes and making a show of it, but really he was just grateful that he was so safe and so loved. Dean smiled, and his hand reached out to cup Castiel’s cheek. 

It felt like heaven when Cas took his cock between his fingers and began to slowly massage down the length. The feeling of the warm water and the pressure of Cas’s hand had him confusing it with a blow job. He pressed his back firmly against Cas’s chest, trapping his husband’s erection between them while Cas worked him, and with his mouth hanging open Dean let his head rest back on his waiting shoulder. 

“Remember how I fucked you into the beach on our honeymoon?” Castiel growled in between nibbles to Dean’s ear that had him shuddering. Dean could only nod. “If we go to the Seychelles I’m going to do even worse to you.” 

As his husband picked up his speed and began to roughly jack him off, Dean was all but drooling, forcing in gasps of air as he succumbed to the pleasure he was being shown. With every thrust and every twist of Castiel’s hand he found himself a little closer to the horizon, his body pulsing with sensation. 

“You won’t be able to walk by the time I’m finished with you.” Cas promised, and with that image in his head Dean’s back arched up as he came, chewing down on his lip as his body shuddered out his release and burned up with the heat, his come shooting out in a long string into the water. 

“We definitely should do this more often.” Dean panted as he caught his breath. The grin on Castiel’s lips was wicked when he turned his head to meet his gaze again, and the flash of arousal running through the actor’s eyes was almost enough to get him hard again. Dean turned onto his knees, straddling his husband’s legs and dipping his hand between them, repaying the favour as he took Castiel’s cock in hand. 

Cas let his head roll back and his eyes gently close as Dean began to slowly work him, tormenting him to the best of his ability with a soft squeeze here and there, applying some pressure but not enough. Castiel’s breathing was heavy and laboured where his desire for more speed and firmness  was overwhelming him, but somehow he kept control and let Dean take charge. His patience was rewarded after only a few minutes, when Dean caved in to his need to please and quickened his hand. Cas could feel it already, pulling at his belly, the inevitable finish. His breath was catching now, and his heart was erratic. He opened his eyes to meet Dean’s, and the last thing he thought before he came was how strong, stable, and safe he looked, smiling down at him, completely in control of his heart and his mind.

 

*

 

The sun was beating down on his back, its hot rays adding to his already tanned skin. This place was paradise. The beach was made up of a fine white sand, the sea a deep turquoise, and their villa’s privacy was protected from the outside world by a number of tall palm trees. He’d taken Dean up on his suggestion of a vacation, now that the first stage of the shoot was finished, and he’d ignored the slightly irritable look that Naomi had given him when he had informed her that he had personally cancelled three interviews and a press conference in favour of taking an impromptu trip away. They’d arrived in the Seychelles late the night before, and although Castiel had spent the entirety of the flight anxiously side-eyeing Dean now that he knew the real reason behind his fear, it seemed his concerns were misplaced. Dean really was better. 

When his husband flapped his towel out to lie it down next to Castiel, (who had barely registered the movement on the sand behind him) the resulting waft of air blew the pages of the book he was reading — a crime thriller — and Cas scowled a little grumpily, although they both knew it was an act. As Dean laid himself down, Castiel finished his page, and when he was done he rolled his head to meet Dean’s gaze, his eyes hidden underneath his shades, but his smile lighting up his cheeks.

Castiel returned the grin warmly, reaching a hand out to take his husband’s fingers between his own before turning back to his book again when Dean began to apply sunscreen. He was very engrossed in the novel, hardly wanted to put it down, but the sight of the love of his life rubbing his body from top to toe was a little distracting, to say the least. He shuffled to get his arousal under control while he watched in his peripherals, recalling clear as day the last time they'd been together on a vacation, and the way he’d rather enthusiastically fucked his husband into the beach on their last night. 

After a few moments of growing desire, Dean turned to him, holding out the sunscreen in a silent plea for Castiel to lotion his back. The book was by now completely forgotten, and Cas tossed it aside, pulling happily up onto his knees and spraying the sunscreen all over his husband’s back. His fingers went first to Dean’s shoulders, and if it turned more into a massage than actually applying the cream then that was only to be expected when Dean was half naked on a private beach, because who was he to control the overwhelming chemistry between them? 

Castiel’s thumbs rubbed out the knots between Dean’s shoulder blades, and he could almost feel the groan the other man was withholding. As his hands travelled slowly lower, making sure his skin was well coated and well soothed, Dean started to naturally lean back into the touch. Before they knew it, Cas had let his head drop forward, his teeth sinking gently into Dean’s shoulder as his hands groped at his hips. Cas was hard already, and he knew Dean wouldn’t be far behind if the noises he was making were anything to go by. 

“Lie on your front.” Castiel whispered into Dean’s neck, watching with half lidded eyes as the skin beneath his warm breath erupted in gooseflesh. He was very keen to repeat his last beach experience.

Dean shook his head, to Castiel’s surprise. “No.” He grinned. “The last time we did that I ended up with sand in some very intimate places.” He let out a laugh, his hand reaching behind him to grab Castiel’s ass and pull. The sex had been fantastic, he couldn’t deny, but he’d been finding sand around his junk for a week afterwards. “Lie on your back.” 

They made quick work of their swim shorts and the shades that made Dean look every bit the celebrity he had become as they turned, Castiel’s hand finding Dean’s cock for a few moments when it was first freed before being unceremoniously swatted away. Dean wasted no time in spreading his legs, kneeling over Cas and leaning up to take his lips in a deep, slow kiss. The feel of everything was tantalising, from the way that Dean’s tongue was licking into him, how his cock hung heavy and thick, tapping against his stomach, and the way that his own dick was just grazing the skin of Dean’s ass. Castiel had never been able to control his need for Dean. 

A smirk appeared on Dean’s lips as he sat up, his eyes dark, and with a raised eyebrow Castiel watched Dean’s hand disappear between his own legs, his heart skipping and precome oozing from him when he saw the plug being dragged out. Cas swallowed as Dean guided his cock to his hole, and with a confident grin, lowered his knees until he was comfortably seated. 

A million thoughts rushed through Castiel’s mind, because he was so fucking turned on and this was so unlike his husband. He was simultaneously delighted and put out. Delighted because he didn’t know Dean had this confidence (and he was overjoyed that he’d found it), and hell, how could he not be pleased, when Dean was starting to move, starting to ride him like it was all he was put on this green earth to do. But he was a little put out, because this was his game, and his husband was now playing it back at him. He’d make him pay somehow. Somehow, but maybe later, because right now? Fuck. Right now this felt fucking amazing. 

Maybe it was the angle or the position or Dean’s further improved fucking bedroom skills, but this felt better than ever. Dean felt so tight around his cock, and Cas was left all but whimpering, for once unsure that he would be able to hold on and win the battle. Dean _always_ came first, that was just how it went with them, because Cas was a gentleman. But this time? A battle it was, because nothing had ever felt so amazing and intimate before. 

Cas forced a gulp of air down into his spasming lungs, staring up into his husband’s loving eyes as Dean rocked back and forth on his cock. Beads of sweat were forming on Dean’s forehead and his chest, his mouth hanging open slightly with the pleasure. Cas let his gaze trail down to Dean’s painfully neglected cock, throbbing and leaking, and when he realised that Dean’s hands were being used to hold him up he wrapped one of his own around the length, his husband’s mouth lifting in a relieved smile as he began to pump. 

He was still sure he was going to fall just short of the mark, because his orgasm was brewing at the surface and without his usual control he had no way of stopping it. It didn’t help that Dean had picked up speed to match his rhythm, thrusting between the cock in his ass and Castiel’s hand. Dean could see it, too, knew how close he was because he could feel him shaking underneath him, could see the desperation in his eyes and the sweat on his brow. Dean nodded, and Castiel came, crying out his husband’s name as he exploded inside him and struggled to breathe. 

Dean was still riding him through his aftershocks when his mind caught up, and the overwhelming love he saw had tears welling in his eyes. As he came around he tightened his grip on Dean’s cock, and only a few minutes later his husband was coming too, painting his stomach white as he pulsed out his release. 

They could only laugh as they came down and Dean sat, catching his breath with Castiel softening inside him. 

“Fuck.” Cas breathed. “Where the hell have you been hiding that?” 

Dean just smirked. “You’re not the only one who knows a few things, Cas.” He laughed, but the reality was that as he was healing, his confidence was growing, and right now he was stable enough to give Cas a run for his money. The challenge was enticing (although he definitely still loved how his husband was a bit dominating in the bedroom, because being controlled like that was one hundred percent his favourite thing) and they had a whole lifetime of tricks to try. 

“Trying to show me up, Winchester?” Castiel taunted, a wicked grin on his lips. 

“Winchester-Novak.” Dean reminded him with a laugh. 

 

 

I’m sorry if it’s all too much,

**Every day you’re here I’m healing,**

And I was running out of luck,

I never thought I’d find this feeling.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I'm so excited to be back and finally publishing this story. I've been working on it for the last couple of months and I've not finished it yet but I'm already on 135k words so you can fasten your seat belts for another long ride. It's gunna be longer than Breathe. 
> 
> And, true to form, it's not gunna be plain sailing. 
> 
> As always, hope you enjoy!


	2. Don't Lead Me Away, No, We've Come so Far

The drive up to Burbank that afternoon hadn’t taken long. Dean had been in LA for so long now that he hadn’t paid the Hollywood sign any notice, heading towards Warner Bros studios without much thought. He had given a soft smile as they drove passed Universal, but only because he knew Castiel was somewhere inside the complex, probably with his space suit on. 

The sun was hot today, as spring started to make way for summer, and the May heat was beating down on his skin. He probably should have put sun screen on, but he wasn’t going to be outside all that much, and he had a decent tan to protect him, left over from their vacation in the Seychelles. 

It had been quite some time since he’d felt so nervous about an interview, but then this one was his biggest yet. When Naomi had handed him the request from Conan O’Brien he’d thought she was joking (because she was of course known for her brilliant sense of humour), but the contents of the envelope were all real. He’d never have expected to end up on that stage. The other side of it, sure, watching Castiel. That they seemed to do every six months or so, but him? And him alone? It seemed ridiculous. 

And yet it was real, part of the promotion for Red Nose Day, with which he was heavily involved. He should have expected it, really, considering the calibre of celebrity he was currently in touch with, but Dean still didn’t feel famous. He knew he was, sure, and he was well aware that Castiel was well up there in the A-List, but he found it so hard to see that he was right there with him. Maybe it was a self-worth thing. He just felt like the same old Dean, just a bit happier, and now with patched up holes in his heart instead of gaping open ones.

Today he’d put on his nicest jeans (tight, dark denim) a plain white (but still designer) t-shirt, and a leather jacket he'd bought in London a lifetime ago. He pushed his shades back over his nose as the car stopped and his hand reached automatically for the handle, before coming to his senses and realising that someone else was going to open the door for him. He hated being waited on like that, it seemed pathetic, but Naomi, and by extension Castiel, insisted it was an important part of their image, so he went with it. 

He stepped out of the car, the sun beating down on his neck, and he smiled coyly at fans who’d turned up to catch a glimpse of him as he was ushered forward. The mere fact that he had fans was still beyond him. He still felt like he’d done nothing to deserve their admiration and respect except be unlucky enough to have been beaten throughout his childhood. But he shrugged the strangeness off as he so often did, and let himself be the subject of a dozen selfies and sign twice as many autographs. 

The anxiety was building in him as he sat backstage waiting for his slot. He chatted away with starstruck eyes to Chris Pine (no, he did not have a little crush on him, and his eyes, however gorgeous, were nowhere near as nice as Castiel’s) in the meantime. And the fact that he’d managed to rope the actor into getting involved with Red Nose Day while he did so was a victory he’d allow himself to feel proud of when this was done. 

The blue armchair was firmer than Dean had expected. As he wriggled himself comfortable and looked around with a slightly nervous expression, he tried to force himself to calm down. His heart was racing, which was stupid, because he’d done this sort of thing before even if this was a league above. He wished Castiel had made it in time. He tried to imagine he was backstage, smiling proudly on at him. His husband had promised to try and get here if he was able, but Dean knew he was busy and that their shoot would probably overrun like it did almost every day.

Conan grinned at him as he sat, and Dean tried to force himself to relax. He knew he was being an idiot about this. “Welcome, welcome.” Conan said with a happy lilt to his voice. “It’s great to finally meet you.” 

Dean didn’t bother to point out that they’d met before backstage when Castiel had been the guest, he was aware the comment was for the show of the watching cameras. “Yeah, you too.” 

The smalltalk idled along for a few minutes while they built up to the reason for his coming, and by the time that the fundraiser was brought up and discussed, Dean felt comfortable where he sat. 

“So how did you get involved with the campaign?” Conan was asking, and Dean noticed how, like so many other interviewers, he had the knack of looking genuinely interested. Maybe he cared, maybe he didn’t. 

“Actually, I was approached.” Dean admitted. He’d felt a bit overwhelmed when Naomi had informed him of the call. He knew they were making real headway with his charity work and that really, this had been the next logical step, but it would involve a lot more TV and airtime than he was used to. He just hoped he was healed enough to hold it together when the time came. “But it’s going to be the biggest one yet. So many people are getting involved. Cas… Castiel has been rallying a lot of other celebrities too. We have people like Jennifer Lawrence getting involved, Chris Pine has just promised me he’ll call…” He paused to wink at the audience who laughed unashamedly. “And Taylor Swift is writing a charity single.” 

Having so many famous friends had definitely made his role in the organisation so much easier. It had seemed like a mammoth task when he’d first started out. 

“How is Castiel doing?” Conan asked politely. 

“He’s great.” Dean beamed. 

“And how is married life treating you both?” 

“Yeah, it’s… he's amazing.” Dean couldn’t help but blush, and he had to stop from cringing when the audience cooed at him. “I’ve never been happier.” 

“Your anniversary must be coming up soon, are you going to celebrate?” 

“We went to the Seychelles a couple of weeks ago, so I don’t think Cas can take any more time out. I expect we’ll get dinner or something.” Dean grinned. 

“So I suppose soon you’ll be thinking about starting a family?” Conan said with a suggestive look, his voice light and non-threatening. 

Dean knew that was just part of natural conversation, that there was no malice or ill-will in his words, but at the thought he choked. His lungs started to tighten, not completely, just a little, but his palms were sweating and he became suddenly aware of the palpitations in his chest. The audience had gone quiet at his strange reaction, and he wondered why it was so fucking difficult for everyone just to understand that this was a difficult subject for him. He had to answer, he knew, he had to say something to gloss over it without outrightly dismissing it, but he had no idea how. 

He could admit the truth. Usually, his policy with the press was to be open and honest. It had been his making. He could explain how the thought of having his own children was nice, but he couldn’t swear that he’d never snap and end up like his father had. He could try and get across how sorry he was that he didn’t trust himself, and that perhaps some of the reason they saw Sam and Jess less and less was that he was worried to be alone with Lily. He could explain those things, but really he couldn’t. How could he when he couldn’t even explain them to his own husband?  

The colour must have drained from his face, because when he met Conan’s eyes they were wary and apologetic. He’d only paused for a second while all of this went through his mind, but it was long enough that the talk show host could see what the innocent question had done to him. 

“We’re not really thinking about that yet.” Dean said decisively. He’d bide his time, and hopefully when he’d healed even more of those painful little holes he’d be able to admit why he couldn’t think about it. First to Castiel, and then to the rest of the world. 

Dean got the distinct impression that Conan had planned to expand on the subject, because he was stuttering a little now, trying to flash forward in the conversation now that it hadn’t gone to plan. He’d probably expected him to blush, probably expected to be able to go into detail about Dean’s dream for the future, but he had the good grace to drop it and leave any further questions unasked. Dean knew it wasn’t going to be the end of the subject though. What Conan didn’t ask would be banked by the next interviewer. 

He felt a bit shaky when the interview came to a close a little while later. He was looking forward to a moment alone to gather his thoughts, and getting even more excited about getting home and wrapping himself up in Castiel’s arms. He walked off the stage to cheers and claps, and he knew that it had gone about as well as it could have, save for that little wobble in the middle. But he’d recovered from it, and the audience had responded warmly to him.

It was with surprise then, that he almost walked straight into his husband’s open arms. Dean looked up in shock, but his face broke out in a wide smile as he let himself be enveloped. He tried not to think about the concern and pity he’d glimpsed Castiel’s expression. He didn’t want to think about it now, or preferably ever. 

As they pulled apart, Dean found it too hard to hold his gaze, so he looked away, offering out a hand instead, which was taken and squeezed. Naomi had turned up too, was stood with Crowley at the end of the hall, and of the people surrounding him she was the only one who was looking like nothing had changed. Had it been that awkward on stage that everyone had noticed how uncomfortable he was? Their pity was only making matters worse. He just needed to forget. 

Castiel tugged on his hand and led him away then, back to the dressing room which was much larger than he expected or needed, and pulled him back into his arms when they were alone. Dean sucked in a breath, because he liked the support but it was almost stifling. 

“I’m fine, Cas.” He said as steadily as he could manage. Castiel pulled warily back to meet his eyes, and it was obvious to him that Dean didn’t want to talk about it, so he stayed quiet, while his husband forced a fake smile that he returned half-heartedly.

It had been hard for Cas, watching Dean on screen. They _never_ talked about it between themselves. His heart had stopped for a second when the subject of children had been raised, and he’d watched with dread and sadness how Dean still froze up at the thought. He’d hoped in vain that if he left the subject alone, Dean might eventually realise that he was no threat and come around to the idea. He’d prayed that with healing, he’d begin to want the same thing Castiel now did. Because he did, now, with all his heart. Every time they saw Sam, Jess, and their little girl, Castiel felt a little envious of a life that he may never have.  

Dean was more than enough for him, made him happier than he ever could have imagined, but despite it, he was greedy enough to want that little bit more. 

 

*

 

Sleep had been difficult to come by that night. The room was a little warm for his taste and they hadn’t changed to a summer comforter yet. He could have switched the air con on, but he’d put the remote in his dresser and he’d been too lazy to get up and grab it. It wasn’t just the heat keeping him awake though, all Castiel could see when he closed his eyes was Dean’s face in that interview. How could he ever admit to his husband how badly he’d started to want a family if Dean was going to react like that every time the subject was even briefly mentioned? 

Eventually, he’d drifted off, and it was lucky that he’d had Friday off because he’d forgotten to set an alarm and when he awoke it was gone 11am. Dean wasn’t in bed any more, but when he groped around for his husband his hands instead met the note he’d been left, and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he read Dean’s message, how he hadn't wanted to wake him and he’d headed to the garage to put a couple of hours work in for Charlie. 

The garage they owned was in downtown LA. The original Singer’s Auto was back home in Kansas, under the care of a manger they’d hired when this branch had been opened by Castiel and Charlie as Dean’s Christmas gift the year before last. It had been in an effort to make Dean’s life more normal, and Cas always found that when things were hard for his husband in the celebrity world, Dean would hide away under some car or another. 

As garages went, it was wildly successful. Definitely helped by the fact that Dean and Castiel would make sporadic appearances, and that it was run by their best friend. What sort of garage could claim to be owned by a Hollywood star anyway? So naturally, their clientele were rich, famous, or fans desperate for a glimpse of the A-List couple.

Every time he’d had an upset moment in an interview or come across a kid that had been severely mistreated, Dean would ground himself by getting stuck in and working. Castiel was just glad he had a safe way now of dealing with his pain. He’d done it countless times over the last eighteen months, and Castiel was hardly surprised by his absence this morning. Dean would always claim it was because Charlie was short staffed that day, but Cas knew it wasn’t the case. 

Normally, he’d respect Dean’s need for space and leave him to it. But today it felt sour and he had the overwhelming desire to be near him. He half thought that Dean might get mad about it, but he dressed quickly and called down to the security booth to get a car ready to take him down. He’d sit with Charlie in her office and chat if it came to it, he just felt like he needed to be around them both, and he certainly didn’t want to be alone. 

By the time he’d showered, dressed, and reached the garage, it was almost 12.30pm, and he strolled through the room, almost a little nervous, until Charlie noticed him and headed his way. The red head threw her arms around him as a greeting, pulling back with a furrowed little brow as she let go. 

“He’s under that Porsche.” She gestured. “But come with me, I want to talk to you.” 

He wouldn’t tell her to her face, because the girl didn’t need much more of an ego boost, but having Charlie around had definitely enhanced Castiel’s life. Ever since she’d moved to LA when the garage had opened eighteen months ago, she’d played an even bigger role in their lives, and Cas would quite happily admit that she was now one of his best friends, too.

The red head was bubbly and happy, always had a quip on her tongue and her dark sense of humour kept him down to earth. But she was always, _always_ there for them. Even when they’d bickered last October (Dean had been trying to insist on paying for some of the bills, which was completely unnecessary) she’d stepped in and talked them both into seeing sense. She was their rock, and they were hers.

And somehow, Charlie always seemed to know everything before they knew it themselves. She’d been the first to know when something big had happened, in the celebrity world or their own private one. She’d known first when Matt and Lisa had broken up, just as she’d known first when Trump had been elected, and when Alan Rickman, and every other damned celebrity that 2016 claimed, had died. It was probably due to how much ‘her insta had blown up’ or how many twitter followers she now had, (still less than Castiel but somehow more than Dean). The girl was a fountain of knowledge, and actually, her advice always seemed to reflect it.

Castiel was left no choice but to follow the manager into her office, and as he relaxed into one of her modern purple chairs he sighed. He knew that the talk show hadn’t aired yet, but Charlie was good at getting information out of them, so he braced himself. It wouldn't hurt to talk to her about it, it wasn’t like she hadn’t brought it up before, and he’d spilled his heart out to her then. She wouldn’t tell Dean anything he said to her in confidence. 

“Why is he in a mood this time?” Charlie asked, and Castiel was a little surprised that Dean had managed to hide it from her. 

“Conan asked him about kids.” Cas sighed, expression remaining steady, as if it didn’t sting. 

“Cas, you _have_ to start talking to him about it.” She complained. “You told me six months ago how much you wanted a baby. Definitely don’t force it down his throat, but he does need to know how you feel about it.” 

“You didn’t see him last night, Charlie. He’s still so cut up over it. If I tell him I feel like it’ll be putting pressure on him, and I can’t do that to him.” Cas winced. He’d always liked how Charlie talked to him, she’d never treated him any differently to anyone else despite his fame, she’d always just told it like it was. 

“I just think that if you’re honest now he might eventually come around to the idea. If you’re not then your chance might pass you by.” 

“Then so be it.” Castiel said decisively, even though it hurt. “He means more to me than having a baby does.” 

“I know that, Cas, I’m not saying he doesn’t. But I think you’ll regret it later if you don’t at least ask the question.” Charlie sighed, slouching back in her chair. She looked up at the clock. “We’re gunna shut down for lunch in a minute. Do you want to come?” 

Castiel shook his head, his stomach still full of the breakfast he’d wolfed down before he left. “No thanks, I need to see Dean.” 

The garage emptied out over the next few minutes, and the look that Charlie shot Castiel was both pointed and pleading as she turned to leave. Castiel walked back into the forecourt and made his way tentatively over to the Porsche his husband was still under. Dean made no attempt to move as he approached, his ears drowned in the music he was playing through his earphones. 

Cas crouched down, his sneakers squeaking as he tapped his husband on the leg, making Dean jump and curse as he knocked his knee on the underside of the car bumper. 

“Jesus.” He muttered as he rolled out from underneath and stared up at his husband. “You made me jump.” 

“Sorry.” Castiel grinned, and he took the arm that Dean held out and helped him up to his feet. “Just wanted to say hello.” 

“Hello.” Dean said with an ironic roll of his eyes, but there was a smile on his lips despite his sarcastic tone. “How come you’re here?”

Cas just shrugged, not willing to admit he was checking up on him. “I’m off today, didn’t want to spend it alone.” 

“Right, sorry. I forgot you had a day off.” Dean lied. He’d just needed a couple of hours to be alone with his thoughts. The time he’d been allowed this morning would have to do, he supposed. “I’ll get changed and we can go home.” 

“You’re good.” Cas all but whispered, his voice thick. Dean looked up to meet the arousal in his husband’s eyes, and he swallowed. Cas had a thing for him looking like this, oily, greasy and sweaty. He’d almost forgotten. “Everyone else is at lunch.” 

Dean gasped as Cas pushed him back against the shiny red hood of the Porsche, and his eyes widened with lust and surprise when Cas leaned over him. His cock twitched inside his cargo pants, and suddenly all he could think of was how much he wanted to be fucked, right here, right now. 

A smirk ghosted over Castiel’s lips at the feel of his husband’s hardening cock underneath him, and he ground his hips forward, revelling in the groan Dean unleashed. He dipped his lips in for a kiss, his head swimming with the million different things he wanted to do to him, but as he ground down again he settled on one. His fingers worked open the button on Dean’s worn cargo pants, and he pulled the fly down slowly, firmly dragging over his cock and making the other man shiver. Dean lifted his ass obediently as Castiel’s hands pulled the pants and boxers down to his thighs, his cock lifting free and standing ready. 

With both hands Cas rubbed into the skin of Dean’s stomach, and he leant over to kiss it lightly, trailing down so excruciatingly slowly that Dean was pushing up against him, trying to get his cock closer to that perfect mouth. 

Eventually Castiel’s lips made contact with the head, and he kissed, nipped and sucked while Dean writhed and moaned. His tongue went out to lick at the slit, collecting the beads of precome he was leaking, and he lapped his way around the whole head before slipping quickly down the shaft, tongue wet and sloppy against strained skin. 

Dean cried out as Castiel lifted him back so he was sat on the hood, because his hands gripped his inner thigh. He cried out again, when Cas swallowed his cock down, and he bucked up into the glorious heat. This whole thing was perfect persecution. He definitely had a kink for semi-public sex, and he was definitely not going to last, and the thought that someone might walk in on them was exciting. Although, he did have the thought that he probably shouldn’t get come on the Porsche. But hey, they could figure that out later. He fucked up again anyway until Castiel held his hip firmly down, and he groaned loudly as Cas set his own perfect rhythm. 

Castiel blew him for a few more minutes, until he was really, really fucking close, literally on the precipice and seconds away from spilling his load, but suddenly a loud noise filled their ears, a door opening in the distance, and Cas pulled quickly off with a pop, gathering his weakly protesting husband in his arms and scooping him off of the Porsche, ducking them both behind it and hastily dragging Dean’s pants back up for him. 

With wide eyes Dean met Castiel’s gaze, saw that arousal still there and wished beyond measure he could have just had ten more seconds so he could have come, because his cock was aching and he was still so fucking close. He wouldn’t have complained if Castiel hadn’t stopped. He’d have let whoever the fuck wanted to watch carry on if he’d got to come. Dean raised his eyebrow as Castiel moved back in to kiss him again, and even though he could hear voices in the background he didn’t care, because coming was all that mattered to him right now. 

Cas moved his hand down into Dean’s lap and squeezed, and Dean had to stifle the sounds he would have made. Through the fabric of his pants Cas gripped him, and rubbed firmly against his cock. Dean watched with hooded eyes as Castiel’s hand worked him close to the release he had just been denied, and when he started to shake Cas kissed him to swallow down his sounds. 

The voices in the background had edged a little nearer, but Dean was powerless, and his wave hit him with the force of a bus, vision fading to white. His body tensed up, back arching, as he leaned back against the Porsche and spilled out into the fabric of his pants. Even though his cock was still spurting and he still couldn’t drag down any new air, Castiel pulled away from him in a hurry. Dean watched as his husband grabbed a can of motor oil and unscrewed the cap, tipping a little over the fresh stain on his crotch to disguise their activities, as if his flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair wouldn’t give them away. 

Cas straightened his clothes out, and shifted away from his husband, sitting innocently (cross-legged) as if they’d just been chatting away. The two mechanics that had obviously decided to eat here gave them a cursory smile as they passed them. The awkward awe of normal people was one good thing to come out of their fame, and they were left alone. 

“Now I definitely need to change.” Dean whispered, and Castiel could only laugh. 

 

Won't you let me out?

No, I tried so hard,

**Don't lead me away, no, we've come so far.**


	3. The Closing Walls and the Ticking Clocks

“Castiel?” Her voice was unusually frantic. He wasn’t sure he’d heard Naomi this concerned before. At least not for a very long time. It made his heart race, because she was usually so composed.

“What is it?” Cas asked curiously, trying not to let his nerves shake his voice. He could see the producer watching him with a raised eyebrow, because he was obviously fooling no one. It was very unlike Naomi to call him when she knew he was in the middle of a meeting, so yeah, he was fucking worried.

A single word made his heart drop. “Dean.” She said. “I think he’s having an attack. We can’t get him to open the door… Castiel I know you’re busy, but…” She paused, and Cas wondered _just_ how bad it was if his own manager was telling him to ditch work. “I think you need to come down here.” 

Cas didn’t need any more encouragement, and the look on his face must have been enough that the producer let him go without much more than an apology. Luckily, today Dean was only a few buildings away, in a studio today filming a new appeal and doing a photo shoot ready for the fundraiser. But it didn’t explain why he’d suddenly snapped again after all this time. Could Conan’s innocent question have affected him this much? Surely not. His mind was racing, because how much could possibly have happened to his husband since they’d had breakfast together only a couple of hours ago? And they’d only been home two weeks since their vacation. He’d been fine, hadn’t he? He hadn’t had a panic attack in over a year, so why today? 

With outstretched arms he pushed through the double doors to the studio they were using, and he’d probably have been reassured if Naomi at least pretended to look relieved he had arrived, but instead his manager frowned, and pointed at a glass office towards the back of the room. Castiel’s heart fell as he took in the sight of the huddled shape in the corner, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up close to his chest, the gentle rocking the only sign of life emanating from the man. Cas could almost feel it, the devastation rolling in waves off of his husband, but he couldn’t understand it at all. They’d not brought it up once, in the few days that had passed since that interview, not even when it had aired on TV. Cas wondered if it could be the cause for all this, but it seemed overly dramatic, even for Dean.

"I'm sorry. Maybe I should have called sooner. He's been that way for more than an hour now." Naomi admitted reluctantly. She had tried to solve the problem herself, but to no avail. And really, there was no maybe about it, she definitely should have called sooner. 

“Dean?” He called as he tapped on the glass, completely expecting an acknowledgement and feeling entirely thrown when there was none forthcoming. Even at his worst, Dean always took the support he offered him… why wouldn’t he even look up? “Dean, please let me in.” 

Castiel sat in a petrified silence for a few moments, wondering what the hell was going on and what the hell he was going to do. He tried, in vain, to open the door (as if no one else had thought to try that) but even in such a state Dean had had the foresight to lock it. He turned back to Naomi and the uncomfortable looking studio staff. “There must be another key?” He called in hope. 

He got his first break when after a few minutes of searching someone rushed forward and passed him a key to the door, which he took almost reluctantly, because he hadn’t wanted to have to force his way in when his husband could have just reached up. Cas sighed as he turned the key, and as he slipped into the room Dean didn’t react, not even a little, just rocked back and forth like he was in some sort of trance. 

The panic was really setting in, now, and with it a harsh bile was rising to the back of Castiel’s throat while his heart throbbed painfully anxiously. “Dean?” He whispered, sinking to his knees next to the man he loved, once again completely ignored. Tears started to pool in his eyes, because he was really fucking scared and this relapse had come completely out of the blue. Out of fear, he threw his arms around his husband and buried his head into his shoulder. 

It wasn’t even the hug that stopped the rocking, nor was it the desperate kiss Castiel pressed into Dean’s cheek. It was, however, the feel of the actor’s tears on his neck that allowed Dean to come around enough to at least realise where he was. He choked the air in with difficulty, his eyes wide as they flashed open and his body tense. 

Feeling his change in stance, Cas pulled back and took Dean’s face in his hands, staring into his eyes with a questioning, concerned gaze. He hadn’t seen such fear written in his husband’s features in one hell of a long time. Definitely not in the last year, perhaps not even since they were just kids. This couldn’t be just because of what Conan had said. It just couldn’t… could it? Maybe he should have taken Charlie’s advice and talked about it, but he wouldn’t have admitted how badly he wanted a family. He’d have told Dean not to worry about it, not to feel pressured instead. Would they still be in this mess if he’d done that? Was it about their future, or something worse? Dean was drowning, he could see, he just wished he understood why. 

“Talk to me.” Cas heard himself begging, but Dean just stared at him with blank terror, so he gave up on the whys for now, and instead wrapped him in his arms, relief flooding in when Dean finally clutched back at him. They sat like that for what felt like a few minutes, but Cas was sure from the way his ass had gone numb that it was much longer, maybe fifteen, maybe thirty. 

When Dean did eventually lift his head, though, the worst had passed, and Cas did at least recognise the man staring back at him as the husband he knew and loved. He could see Dean didn’t want to talk by the way he kept avoiding his eyes and staring at his lips. He could tell that even when he tried to bring it up, Dean would be reluctant to divulge his fears. Cas frowned before he opened his mouth, because he didn't know why Dean was closing up on him again, after everything they’d been through? Why the hell was he doing this to him?

“You need to talk, Dean.” He said quietly, his fingers brushing against Dean’s cheek. 

But, just as he expected, Dean shook his head, looking away. “Please baby.” Castiel was begging now. “Don’t do this, don’t keep secrets from me.” Cas could see that it was a bit of a low blow, but he also knew that he couldn’t let Dean go back to the way things used to be. They’d got much better (ok, not perfect, but much, much better) at communicating over the years and look how far they’d come. He felt a bit guilty for not communicating himself, but this wasn’t the time for that. “Dean, please. These rings that we wear, they mean we need to talk and we need to keep talking. Please, baby, I love you, and I’m scared.” 

When Dean did look up to finally meet his eyes, Cas was alarmed by the tears within his own. He could feel his heart breaking just with the recognition of how broken Dean was in that moment. It seemed to him like whenever he thought things were finally going well again, it would all crumble around them. What the hell had happened to destroy their happiness once again? 

“I can’t do this, Cas.” Dean eventually whispered. Cas flinched at the choice of words, given how their young friendship had ended, but he was sure this wasn’t about them, not this time at least. 

“Can’t do what?” He asked. 

“I can’t keep talking about the past. It hurts. It hurts so fucking much every fucking time they bring it up.” Dean sobbed. “I just want it to stop. I wish no one knew. I wish I’d never told anyone.”

If Cas wasn’t confused before this then he certainly was now. What the hell was going on inside his husband’s mind today? Was he having a very delayed freak out about finally confessing his plane experiences? He’d been fine talking about his abuse for the last year, and he’d only been saying last month how pleased he was of all the good work they’d managed to achieve, how delighted he was that record numbers of children were being saved from abusive homes, how proud he was to be a part of the movement and how excited he was about Red Nose Day. 

It was hard to ignore the little pang of hurt, too. Cas was sure he wasn’t personally included in the _anyone_ that Dean wished he hadn’t told, because if he’d never explained his actions from thirteen years ago then there was no way that they’d ever have been together again. And yet, was he sure? Before all of this, before they’d even seen each other again, Dean had got by ok. He’d kept to himself, his secrets safely locked inside of him, and he’d had a steady girlfriend and friends and a brother to keep him sane. Was the fame too much for him? This side of their life was definitely all down to him, after all. 

“You don’t have to keep doing this, Dean.” Cas whispered, although he really didn’t know how pulling out at this late stage from all of his commitments would go down with Naomi and the public, but right now he didn’t care. “You can stop at any time.” 

“Then I want to stop.” Dean nodded abruptly, and Cas was finding it hard to hide his concern. He hadn’t expected that answer, either.  

“Ok.” Cas whispered, although it made his heart heavy. He leant forward and wrapped his arms around his husband, pleased at least that Dean was responding, and yet he wasn’t so much of an idiot not to notice the lack of conviction in the hug. _Fuck_. What if he really wasn’t coping? What would that mean for them? “Then you stop.” 

 

*

 

“What do you mean you quit?” Naomi asked in shock. Two days had passed and Dean had refused outrightly to go back to the studio and continue his work. She was aware that he’d said something to Castiel in that little glass office, but neither man would tell her what. They’d eventually walked out of the room and straight out of the building, hands clutching each other’s, but it had taken Castiel a whole hour to get him out of that state. It was the worst she’d ever seen him, but she still hadn’t expected to hear this. 

“I quit. I’m not going to do it any more.” Dean said defiantly. His hands were up in his hair and he was shaking a little bit, she noticed. “Stop asking about it.” 

“Dean you _can’t_ just quit.” She said irritably. What the hell was this idiot playing at? He’d never get another job if he pulled out this late on. There was only three weeks to go, and he’d been working on this for months. As she stared at him, he looked on the verge of an attack, but she had to make him see sense. “What’s going on with you?” 

“I quit. I’m not going.” Dean repeated, and he’d covered his eyes with his flexing fists. His breathing was ragged and laboured, and Naomi knew that if she kept pushing he’d end up on the floor any moment. 

“You need to talk to someone.” She said softly, because she was genuinely concerned now. She raised her hand to his shoulder and gently touched him, but he flinched away. 

“For fuck’s sake why won’t anyone just leave me alone?” He all but shouted as he turned and fled, slamming the door behind him. 

Well, that went about as badly as she could have imagined in her worst nightmare. She dialled the studio’s number and wondered how the hell she was going to explain this. She settled on a piss poor excuse about him needing time to adjust and prepare, one that they took, but she knew that no one was buying her shit. 

Her next problem was what she was going to do about Castiel. The actor was, quite rightly, at work again, and wouldn’t be home for many hours yet. Should she tell him? Should she confess her concerns about his husband, or keep it to herself so as not to worry him? 

Naomi mulled over this situation for quite some time, and it was 12pm before she next saw Dean. She’d stayed in the house, wondering what on earth had set him off and whether she’d missed something. Had something new happened to him? She knew that the Conan interview had been a little awkward for him, but this regression couldn’t be down to that alone, it was too severe. Even when she’d first met Dean, when he’d been a snivelling mess that had just defended his best friend to the press for being gay, he’d been more grounded than this. Today he couldn’t even hold a conversation, and that was worrying her more than anything else. 

 _No_ , she thought reluctantly. She had to talk to Castiel about it, and sooner rather than later. 

She’d only just settled on that decision when Dean rounded the corner into the kitchen, looking for lunch, but his limp, sad posture tensed when he saw her, his whole body bracing as if walking into battle. _What the hell is with him?_  

“Dean, would you sit down please?” She gestured calmly to the empty bar stool next to her as the mechanic come celebrity grabbed some bread and cheese from the fridge. He looked up with narrowed, dark eyes, but he just ignored her as he took a knife to the cheese, hacking off irregular slices that were irritating her almost as much as his obnoxious attitude. Naomi rolled her eyes and tried again. “What’s happened?” 

The way his sadness almost slipped out was obvious to her, the way it began to leak from his heart and he caught it just in time, he couldn’t hide. His front tooth chewed down on his lip and he refused to look at her. She knew that if she could see his eyes they’d be full of tears. But he held firm, none escaped, and he stood stoic. 

“Fine, you don’t need to talk to _me_.” Naomi broke the silence with her sigh. “But you have to talk to someone.” 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He said irritably, so quiet she barely heard him. He was concentrating his mind on the sandwich he was creating, which now had far too much cheese within. He pulled some ham out of the fridge and threw that in there too for good measure. 

“You expect me to believe that?” Naomi accused. 

Dean’s eyes narrowed further, and now that his tears were blinked back he looked up to meet hers with a dark anger in his own. He said nothing, his stare enough to convey his denial. 

“I haven’t seen you like this since… since the beginning.” She admitted, trying a softer approach. Dean just remained silent, and she sucked in a breath, making a decision to change tactic because nothing was getting through to this stubborn asshole today. “I’ve arranged the car to pick you up from here later, for your therapy.” 

“It’s been cancelled.” Dean said steadily, not dropping his angry glare. Naomi had the distinct impression that he’d phrased it that way for a reason. She had the feeling it wasn’t the doctor that had cancelled the session. 

“Don’t do this, Dean. Don’t close up.” She was almost begging him, and her own fragility sounded so foreign to her. It was so unusual to be this out of control. “You owe it to him.” 

“I’m not closing up.” He lied. “There’s nothing to tell.” 

“Why are you lying—” Naomi began, but she was interrupted. 

“—Jesus Christ Naomi, will you drop the fucking inquisition? Just give me a fucking break.” Dean snapped, yelling at the manager who raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her chest in defence and irritation. Naomi’s eyes flashed to his right, and the kitchen door closed behind him. He groaned inwardly as he glanced backwards to meet his husband’s alarmed and disapproving gaze. He couldn’t deal with them right now, so he threw his arms up in the air, abandoning the half made sandwich as he stormed out of the room. 

“What the hell was that?” Castiel asked his manager, a cold panic filling his heart and lungs. He knew Dean hadn’t been quite right for the last couple of days, but he hadn’t expected that, particularly not when he’d just come home for lunch. He’d never seen him take his anger out on anyone, let alone those closest to him. Sure, they’d had the odd spat, but nothing like that. And spouses were supposed to bicker every now and again. He’d never known Dean to have anything but respect for Naomi before that outburst. If anything, Dean got on better with her than he did. 

“You need to get him to talk, Castiel, and soon. He’s throwing everything away.” 

 

*

 

It was late by the time Dean actually let Castiel stay in the room with him. Since his outburst earlier whenever Cas would even try to go up to him he’d complain. He’d say something like _please, Cas, I just need space_ or _I just want to be alone right now_ , and because he didn’t know what else to do, Cas would respect his wishes and leave him to feud, which may not be the best course of action but Naomi had gone home and he was too scared to involve Charlie, so he had no one’s advice to seek. 

It was now after 10pm, and he found his husband in the bar, ass perched on a stool, head hanging heavily in his arms on the bar itself. In front of him, a two thirds empty bottle of scotch, and a glass just refilled. The sight in itself was heartbreaking, and Cas folded his arms across his chest while he gathered himself. It felt to him like Dean was crying out for help, and yet he knew as soon as it was offered he’d be pushed away. 

He had to try, though. Cas took the stool next to his husband’s and smiled brightly when Dean glanced his way. He didn’t ask him to leave, and the look he gave him was almost blank. 

“Have you got another glass, there?” Cas asked, and when Dean groped over the bar for another glass and pushed it his way, Castiel poured himself a scotch. Not that he’d ever liked it. They’d stolen too much of John’s scotch as teenagers and throwing it up so often had put him off it for good. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’d have preferred to see Dean with anything else. Scotch would always be John’s drink, and the reminder was sour. 

Castiel knew Dean was watching his lips as he sipped the amber liquid, as the burn on his tongue sent him right back to those teenage years. The man in front of him now could just as well have been the boy he’d known then. He looked just as broken, just as afraid, and he watched him with as much lust as he ever had. 

He wanted to ask him about his pain, wanted to understand what was going on, but the overwhelming drive behind his actions was how much he just wanted Dean to be safe and to be happy. He was usually good at making Dean happy. 

So when he put down his glass, he lifted a hand to the back of Dean’s neck and his husband’s eyebrow raised in anticipation as he leaned in, taking the distance between them and replacing it with a long, slow kiss. Dean gasped, shuffling right to the edge of his stool to get as close as possible, and Cas smiled against his lips, his other hand reaching out to his husband’s waist. 

He pulled a little more and Dean stood off his stool, allowing the kiss to deepen as his tongue swept inside Castiel. Cas breathed heavily, pulling his lips away from his husband’s and trailing soft wet kisses along his jawline instead. Dean groaned as Cas moved to his neck, and he gripped at his husband’s hips when Cas nipped and sucked at his pulse point. Cas stood too, grinning at the outline of Dean’s hard cock in his jeans, which he rutted against to prove his claim on the man’s heart. 

A curse word left Dean’s tongue, and he wobbled where he stood, more inebriated than either of them had accounted for. Cas held him steady, and after they’d spent a few more minutes passionately kissing he pulled on his hand as a request to move things upstairs, but Dean almost fell, so he lifted him, bridal style, just about making it up to their bedroom (because Dean was heavier than he looked), and lying him carefully down on their bed. 

As Castiel leaned over his husband he pushed off the flannel shirt he had on over his t-shirt, and Dean wriggled it off gladly. He moaned when Castiel’s fingers went to the buttons on his jeans and those too, he kicked off without second thought. 

But when Cas gripped the hem of his t-shirt in his fist, Dean froze. His eyes flew open, wide and alarmed, his hands coming down to land on his husband’s, who looked back at him with surprise and suspicion. “Don’t.” The single word Dean uttered sent Castiel’s heart plummeting. With that lonely word Dean had admitted everything Castiel had feared, but he still didn’t understand. Why had Dean suddenly regressed? The man who lay under him now might not be his husband any more, but the boy he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He cast his mind back, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen years, recalling with horror and fear the panic attacks Dean used to have about showing his scars, even to him. Why now? Why was this happening again? 

He let the fabric go as suddenly as he’d grabbed it, and concentrated instead on kissing, trying to focus on the feeling of Dean’s tongue against his own, not the new reluctance he could feel from his husband. Although Cas could still feel Dean’s erection in his jeans, and his husband was still slowly grinding it against his leg, he knew he couldn’t go through with this. Not tonight, not while he was in such a bad state. Dean needed support, not sex. He pulled his lips away, lifting them instead to Dean’s forehead, and as he peppered him with gentle, soft kisses Dean hummed happily, while Castiel’s arms engulfed him. 

Gradually, as he’d calmed down, Dean had stopped grinding on Castiel’s leg, and safe and secure inside his lover’s arms, he’d let himself surrender to sleep. 

Castiel closed his eyes then, not bothering to set an alarm because he knew that Naomi would wake him up at the last possible moment, and he wanted to make sure Dean could sleep for as long as he needed. The internal battle he was badly losing was surely draining him, and he must be exhausted. He fell asleep with his husband wrapped tightly in his arms. 

But, true to form for his luck, they were awake at 6am. Dean had thrown back the sheets and almost sprinted to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before the sounds of vomiting reached Castiel’s ears. He’d let him throw up alone for a few minutes, unsure if his presence was required, but eventually Cas had snuck into the bathroom to find him lying on the cold marble tiles, looking sweaty and generally unwell. 

“You ok?” Castiel asked, leaning against the doorframe. 

“No. I feel like shit.” He snapped. Castiel had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Dean’s gaze flashed up to his husband’s, looking pissed. “And you could have let me come last night.” He said with an air of irritation. “I’ve got blue fucking balls this morning.” 

Now Castiel did roll his eyes, which probably wasn’t the best idea because now Dean looked even more pissed off. “Do you want me to take care of it now?”

“No, I’ve got a headache.” Dean said, as if it was obvious. He looked incredibly sorry for himself, one hand on his head and the other rubbing his crotch in frustration. 

“Whatever.” Castiel said, trying not to let his voice rise. “Can I get you anything?” He asked, grabbing a glass from the sink and filling it up from the faucet before Dean could say the word water. He pulled two aspirin from the vanity and handed them down too. Dean stayed quiet, which Cas knew was the closest thing he was going to get to a thank you. 

Cas sat on the edge of the tub while Dean remained on the floor, and they spent the next ten minutes in an awkward silence. A million things were running through Castiel’s mind, his imagination going wild with possibility, each new reality worse than the last. Had something happened to his husband to set him back so far? Had someone done or said something to him? Or worse, had he just spontaneously fallen back down the hole? Perhaps it had been a choice. Perhaps he’d fallen out of love. The possibilities were endless. 

A groan escaped Dean’s lips before he spoke so long later, and Castiel’s gaze dropped to watch him cover his face in his hands. Dean met his eyes when he pulled his hands away, and he looked guilty on top of everything else. “I _am_ sorry.” 

 

Confusion that never stops

**The closing walls and the ticking clocks**


	4. You Can Count on Me to Fuck up Everything

Stranded in the darkness,

Begging please don’t pin all of your dreams on me,

Baby, you can count on me,

**You can count on me**

**To fuck up everything.**

I’ve been running forever love,

Forever love,

I’ve been running away,

 I forget what I’m running from,

But it still scares me today.

 

Despite the apology the other morning and the hour of good behaviour that had followed it, it hadn’t taken long for Dean to slip back into asshole mode. Castiel was growing increasingly concerned, because how the fuck had this all just fallen apart on him when things were going so well, and more importantly, _why_ was this happening? 

They’d argued, as in, actually raised their voices at each other more than once, about the most stupid little details that really weren’t important, and it was breaking Castiel’s heart because it wasn’t what he’d wanted to say, but Dean just had this way of riling him up when he wanted to. Why weren’t things like they had been only a week ago? Where was the husband that had convinced him to drop everything and fly them out to the Seychelles so that they could be alone? He wanted him back. 

Tonight was no different to the last six. Why would it be? The only change this evening was that he found Dean sat on the couch with a beer, instead of holding his head over a scotch bottle that was half empty. And no, Cas probably shouldn’t have commented, probably shouldn’t have commended his husband for ditching the hard liquor in favour of a beer that wouldn’t necessarily be lining their en-suite toilet tomorrow morning, because when he said it, it sounded even to him like he was parading Dean’s bad behaviour over his head, but it was too late to take it back now. 

“Get off your fucking high horse Cas.” Dean complained, and he downed the rest of the forty in spite, pulling off of the couch to grab another from the cooler. The emptied bottle landed with a clink amongst the others. “I’ll drink whatever the fuck I want.” 

 _Don’t say it. Don’t say it._ “Isn’t that what your dad did?” Castiel spat. _You. Fucking. Idiot._  

And shit, that could have been the end of their marriage, the look in Dean’s eyes was so dark and angry. “Don’t.” Dean said, a warning. Castiel heard the implications of the word. He understood the threat, understood that he’d just pushed it way too far. He regretted it already, because it was a low blow, even if it was the truth. 

Cas stood and squared up to his husband, irritation flaring in his eyes at the expression on Dean’s face, although he’d been ready to apologise only a moment before. But Dean’s eyes dropped quickly to Castiel’s lips, and suddenly Cas saw his exit, knew he could get away without making this a big argument. He grabbed Dean’s ass in both hands as he smashed their lips together, and Dean grunted as he kissed back, his uncoordinated fingers gripping into Cas’s waist. 

With a sharp exhale, Cas ground his hips forward, sending his blood rushing south, and Dean moaned at the pressure on his junk, his cock twitching as it filled. Their lips were moving in a heated clash, teeth colliding more than once as they dragged each other impossibly close. Cas was panting, and he sucked in a breath when Dean rutted against him again, the pressure glorious. 

“Fuck.” Dean breathed as his husband’s hands left his hips and travelled around to his front, dragging his button and fly open roughly. Castiel ground against him again for good measure, and Dean kissed his jaw when he was close enough. 

“That’s the idea.” Cas muttered under his breath, nipping his teeth lightly on Dean’s earlobe, turning his husband into Jell-O. 

But when his hand returned to the front, and slipped down into Dean’s boxers, his husband froze. 

“No.” Dean said suddenly, pulling away. “No, fuck, stop. Stop.” 

Castiel ripped his hand back so quickly it was like Dean’s skin had burned him. He pulled back to meet his husband’s terrified gaze, watching with no idea what to say or do as Dean shook in front of him, started to descend into that bad place. So that was that, then. Dean was irreparably broken if he was even turning sex away. What the fuck was going on? What the hell was with him? Was this really all a delayed panic from finally confessing about the plane? 

The moment grew tense, because neither man knew what to say. Dean held firm though, kept himself on the edge and just about survived without an attack. Cas couldn't believe he’d just stopped that. How damaged was he? When the two men found words, they both started speaking at the same time. 

“Is this about the plane—?” Castiel began, at the same time as Dean blurted out: 

“I’m sorry, Cas—” 

They paused again for a long while, and it was obvious to Cas that Dean wasn’t going to answer his question, so he decided to respond to Dean’s comment. “It’s ok, Dean.” He sighed. “I’m not worried about the sex. I’m worried about you.” 

“I’ll be ok.” His husband reassured him, taking a step closer again and putting an arm around his waist. Castiel didn’t believe his words, but it was nice to be reassured. “I just need time.” 

 

*

 

“Your niece really is just the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen.” Charlie grinned, holding out her phone to Cas, displaying a picture Jess had just sent her of Lily in a little pink dress she’d bought her for her first birthday. Castiel smiled at the image of the one year old girl, whose bright eyes were all her father’s, beaming up at the camera from behind the blonde hair she’d inherited from her mother. Lily was a truly delightful baby. Sure, like any infant she kept her parents up at night and had the odd temper tantrum, but whenever they had visited or vice versa the little girl was all smiles, and had no qualms about curling up to sleep in either of her uncle’s arms (or Aunt Charlie’s, of course). “Remind me to show Dean when he gets his ass up here.” 

 _If_ he gets his ass up here. Cas forced a smile, passing the phone back to his friend with a slightly heavy heart. To say things had been tense in the last week between himself and his husband was something of an understatement. He had no idea what had changed, and hell if Dean was going to tell him, but the mechanic had been snappy and irritable in the week since his meltdown at the studio. He’d all but locked himself in the garage, fixing up the Impala (although Castiel was well aware that there was nothing broken on any of the cars they owned). He hadn’t been out, not even to work at Bobby’s, had barely spoken to Charlie or his husband, and had been generally unpleasant to be around. 

Cas didn’t get it, and it was destroying him. But as a personal defence he’d kept Charlie oblivious. She was the couple’s self appointed marriage counsellor, and although her advice was usually sound, Cas preferred to try and talk things through the old fashioned way before getting third parties involved, even if their track record suggested it didn’t always work too well. 

“I’m sure he’ll be up in a minute.” Cas said, with a less than convincing smile. He wondered sometimes how he actually had managed to win all of the awards in his cabinet, because Charlie saw through his act every time. She watched him for a few moments with a scrutinising eye. 

“What’s going on?” She demanded after a pause. 

Castiel exhaled quietly. There was no point trying to deny it now that he’d been caught out. Charlie would never drop it. “I wish I knew.” He caught her curious gaze and frowned. “He’s been really off with me. I don’t know if I’ve done something to piss him off, but he won’t tell me if I have. He’s just been really miserable and snappy, and he had a panic attack last week for the first time in a year.” 

Charlie raised an eyebrow and shot Castiel a quizzical look. “You realise his dad would have turned 60 last week?” She said softly. “I don’t know if that’s all there is to it but I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s part of the reason for his mood.” 

A groan escaped Castiel’s lips, because of course he hadn’t made that connection himself. He dropped his head into his waiting hands and rubbed his cheeks with his fingers. “Fucking hell I’m an idiot.” He complained. When he lifted his head back up he smiled at her. “What the hell would I do without you?” 

“Get a divorce?” Charlie joked darkly, and Cas grimaced, because it was probably true. When Castiel remained silent a while longer, Charlie took matters into her own hands. “Go and talk to him. I’ll come back later. We still have dinner plans, remember?” 

Cas shot his friend a grateful smile and a nod. He wouldn’t bail on tonight even if Dean did, because he knew that Charlie had been excited about spending an evening with some of their celebrity friends for the last few weeks. Not to mention, she’d had her sights set on scoring a dinner date with Ellen Page ever since she’d moved from Kansas. 

As he bid her goodbye and bolstered the courage to go and speak to his husband, Cas felt undeniably nervous. He didn’t know why, even after a whole year of marriage, Dean could still reduce him to Jell-O when he was in a mood. It could be all in his head, but he was still scared that this was all an act, that Dean would one day run home to Kansas, that this would all get too much for him. This week’s complete and utter breakdown had done nothing to reassure him on that front, and how he’d been outright denied last night was still playing heavily on his heart and mind. 

He took the steps slowly, one at a time, and when he emerged in the garage and saw his shirtless husband relentlessly scrubbing the hood of the Impala, his heart skipped, because he was so fucking hopelessly in love. Dean turned when he heard the footsteps behind him, and a light smile ghosted his lips. He’d either not noticed that his scars were on display again, or he’d got over it. Cas was praying for the latter.  

Cas couldn’t help but crash their lips together as soon as he was close enough, and although Dean shot him a surprised look he kissed back happily, and let himself be lifted onto the hood while Castiel assaulted him with his mouth. The needy hands grabbing at Dean’s hips were well aware that they hadn’t had the other man in over a week, and Cas was fighting his lust to get himself under control. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, ripping his mouth away from Dean’s and instead sucking a pink mark on his neck. “I’m such an idiot.” 

Dean’s eyebrow raised, because he had no idea what Castiel was talking about but he was quite happy to play this game. He wasn’t feeling so fragile as he had last night (no matter what poor excuse he gave his conscience, the alcohol definitely didn’t help him), and right now he needed anything to help him out of this mood. Besides, if he was honest, being fucked on the hood of the Impala was something he’d fantasised about for a while now. Perhaps ticking something off of his bucket list would cheer him up. And the thought of doing it down here in the garage where they both knew there were cameras watching was even kinkier. The risk of getting caught was definitely a turn on for him. He couldn’t help but feel guilty, though, because Cas obviously thought he’d done something worth apologising for when he was the one that had been a complete asshole all week. He did have reasons, he did, he just wasn’t ready to share them.

“I’m sorry too.” Dean insisted, sucking in air as his cock swelled inside his jeans. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Cas agreed, nibbling his collarbone. Dean darted a hand south, to his husband’s surprise. He rubbed his palm over the bulge in Castiel’s pants, leaving his husband writhing over him as he applied firm pressure. “Forgive me?” Cas gasped, relieved that Dean had initiated, that he still wanted him.

“Nothing… ah… to forgive.” Dean panted, as his favour was returned and Cas pressed down on his cock.  He fought to concentrate on the pleasure, and only that, fighting back his panic where he’d failed last night. He was desperately trying to take more kisses from his lover’s lips, but Cas had pulled back to watch the sincerity in his eyes. “Forgive me for being a dick?” 

Castiel nodded, leaning down to kiss his husband and nibble on his bottom lip. 

“Fuck me, Cas.” Dean begged. “Can’t make it upstairs.” 

“Cameras.” Castiel reminded him, reaching a hand out, offering assistance to reach their bedroom. 

“Don’t fucking care, Cas, just fuck me.” Dean pleaded, and without asking he leant forward, pulling undone the actor’s jeans and dragging his hard cock out of his boxer briefs. Cas watched him with a dark, almost pissed off expression, but before Dean knew it his jeans too had been shuffled down to his ankles and his legs spread wide. When Cas leant up to kiss him again and their erections brushed against each other, Dean moaned like a bitch, and Cas thrust upwards just to hear more of the sweet sound. 

“Need you inside me, Cas. Need it now.” Dean cried, gripping his husband’s cock between his fingers and squeezing tightly, revelling in the ooze of precome at the tip while Castiel writhed above him. Cas groaned in appreciation, pulling his lips down to suck on a nipple while his fingers teased Dean’s hole, one pushing in only when Dean was begging and cursing. 

It was the sharp intake of Dean’s breath that reminded Castiel of their lack of lube, and he frowned, because he didn’t think he could go through with it without any, he’d definitely hurt Dean if he did. A wicked plan formulated in his mind when he decided that he too, couldn’t wait until they got upstairs to the bedroom, and while he opened him up inside, with his other hand he roughly grasped his husband’s cock and pumped him quickly, Dean shuddering underneath him as he rushed him close to his release. 

“Cas, fuck, need you, fuck, not.. fuck not like this.” Dean was pleading, but Cas had already decided that it would be like this, because it was the only thing he could think of on short notice to fix their problem. As Dean’s back began to arch up and the look in his eyes was a mixture of elation and confusion, Cas grinned wickedly. 

Almost as soon as Dean started to come, Cas pulled his hand out from inside him, and scooped up his come to smear it over his own cock, pushing roughly inside as quickly as he could. Dean screamed, quite literally, as Cas smashed into his prostate mid-orgasm, and his husband thrusted into him without restraint while he continued to come all over himself, until he was left eventually shuddering while Castiel filled him inside. 

“Fuck.” Dean said, once again the only word he could remember around his sex god husband. “Just… fuck. You dirty bastard.” 

Castiel grinned, pulling out and tucking himself back inside his boxers, offering out a hand to his all but naked lover and yanking him back up to standing while Dean fumbled to get his jeans back up, wincing at how unclean he felt on both sides of his body. 

After a pause, Castiel’s expression turned serious. “Why didn’t you just tell me? It was obvious I hadn’t remembered.” 

“About what?” Dean asked ignorantly, using a rag to wipe his come from his stomach. He didn’t really want to talk, if he was honest. Particularly not when he was still enjoying his post sex buzz. 

“His birthday.” Castiel was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. 

Oh, that. So Cas thought he had it figured out. It wouldn’t hurt to go along with it, he supposed, just until he got his head straight. It would certainly keep him happy for a little while until he figured out exactly how to tell him the truth. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you because it’s pathetic, isn’t it? I just didn't know what to say.” 

“It’s not pathetic, Dean.” Cas whispered, cupping Dean’s cheek in his palm and making him feel way more loved than he really deserved. “Is that what set you off last week?” 

Dean realised then just how much Castiel still tiptoed around him, because if he seriously thought that something as simple as his father’s would have been 60th birthday was enough to incite a panic attack of that level, then he really did think he was broken beyond repair. He wasn’t, not beyond repair. If he was a car he’d definitely have been used for scrap by now but there was still hope for him. Even if this latest setback had thrown him back by a few years of healing, he could still reclaim his lost territory, couldn’t he? One day, at least.

Even so, he wasn’t ready to talk about the truth, not yet, so he shrugged, nodded, and let Castiel pull him into a hug while trying not to be irritated by his stupidity. He’d been snappy enough this week, and his poor husband deserved a medal for not having thrown him out already. Plus, none of this was his fault, and he really didn’t want him to worry, after all. 

 

*

 

The air was definitely lighter between them — there was no doubt about that — but something with Dean was still off. As Castiel walked into the restaurant with his husband’s hand in his own something just didn’t feel right. He wasn’t sure _what_ didn’t feel right, he just knew that something didn’t. He tried giving an experimental squeeze to Dean’s fingers, and when they flexed right back at him and his husband shot him a curious smile he probably should have felt reassured, but he was far fucking from it. 

They took their seats casually, and when Castiel chanced a glance at Dean he had to stop and wonder if his husband had even noticed how tense he was beside him. He’d been quite happy earlier to believe he’d solved the problem, that John’s birthday was all there was to it, but now he wasn’t so sure. The more he thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed. Would Dean really brood so much over it? He’d not relapsed this time last year, milestone birthday or not. Cas couldn’t help it that his mind was running wild, because deep down he was really scared. Dean hadn’t closed up on him like this since before they were together. It had been two and a half years since their communication had suffered so much.

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” Charlie was saying with a wide smile, her attentions focused solely on Ellen Page, as if their three other celebrity friends weren’t even there. The actress’s eyebrows were quirked up in interest, and one look at her told Castiel they’d be headed home together tonight. Dean seemed to be thinking a similar thing, if the look he gave him a moment later was anything to go by. 

The evening was rushing by in a bit of a blur, because Castiel could hardly concentrate on anything around him, his anxiety eating him up inside. He carried the conversation when it came his way and joked and laughed as he normally would, and the act was obviously good enough to fool those that didn’t know him so well, even if Charlie had shot him the odd _not buying your shit_ glance. Dean too, was managing just about to fool them into thinking all was well, but the light within him that usually burned so damned bright it was blinding was diminished, embers amongst dark coal. 

“So Castiel, you’re going to Texas this week, aren’t you?” Michael Cera was asking. _Yeah, great, thanks for the reminder._

“Yeah, I’m heading down on Monday.” Cas replied, trying not to be miserable about it. For the next stage of filming, they had a few scenes to shoot down at NASA in Houston, and while he was sure it would be really interesting — because he was genuinely enjoying shooting this movie — he was dreading leaving his husband alone for a week when their terms were already so dubious. He’d considered asking Dean to come along, but something was stopping him from extending the invite.

“It’s so interesting, all that space stuff.” Ellen stated, and the table was soon engrossed in conversation about the universe and the potential for life outside of this planet. Cas couldn’t help but notice that Dean had stayed firmly quiet through the whole exchange. When he turned to look at him, he was quick enough to notice the glowing phone screen under the table that he very quickly replaced back in his pocket. A sense of dread was completely overwhelming him. 

It felt like déjà vu, when Dean mumbled something unintelligible and stood, walking off in search of the bathrooms. For a few moments Castiel felt like he was back in that place two years ago, eating dinner with his colleagues, and soon Dean would punch someone and storm off. His attitude wasn’t much different, and the pain was certainly the same. But he caught the look that Charlie gave him, and although she didn’t speak he knew she was right — they couldn’t let it go on like this, not any more, not now they were married. So he stood too, and strode nervously to the bathrooms, where he found Dean splashing his face over the sink. 

Dean visibly relaxed upon seeing Castiel enter. His flannel-clad shoulders dropped as the tension drained away from him, his eyes blinking back the darkness they’d been holding. His smile may have been small but it _was_ still a smile, so it did more to reassure Cas than anything else would have. 

“Are you ok?” Cas whispered nervously, taking a step closer to his husband but not completely closing the distance between them. 

“Yeah, I’m ok.” Dean sighed, rubbing his cheeks with his fingers. “Sorry, I know I’m being a downer.” 

Castiel chewed his lip and edged closer, a hand going out to Dean’s shoulder. He wanted to talk, properly talk, but a restaurant bathroom was hardly the ideal time or location. He wanted to ask if there was anything else going on, if he was being an idiot for assuming the worst, if he was being unstable and paranoid for starting to doubt everything he thought he knew. He wanted to ask, but he was scared of what would happen if he got the wrong answer. 

The emotional turmoil inside his husband was obvious to Dean. He was wrapped up in himself and his problems, but not so much so that he couldn’t see how much he was hurting Castiel. He was definitely going to have to talk to him about what was going on, and sooner rather than later. He tried telling himself he’d do it tonight, that he’d talk when they got home, but he knew as well as Cas did that it wasn’t going to happen. There were things he needed to do before he opened his mouth. So he made a resolution to himself — when Cas was back from Houston, they’d talk. 

In the meantime, though, he could be a less shitty husband. Dean cracked a smile, a proper smile that lit up his eyes, and it somehow helped to keep the pain at bay so he kept wearing it as he pressed forward and wrapped his arms around Castiel’s back. Cas let out a pleased little hum as he buried his face in Dean’s neck, and when Dean’s lips kissed his hair he breathed out a sigh of relief. 

Castiel might have been reassured by all of this, might have brushed it under the carpet and put it down as a rough patch, might have figured that they were just having an off few days. He might have, but as they ate their desserts and his eyes caught a glimpse of the pie that Dean was simply turning around with his fork rather than eating, his heart sank. Because if there was one thing he’d have said Dean loved more than him, it was pie, and if he didn’t even want that right now then something was seriously wrong. 

 

*

 

“So do you identify with the character?” The interviewer was a smarmy, irritating, middle aged white man with a flash of grey in his dark hair. His glasses had dripped to the end of his nose and it gave him an aura of self-importance that Castiel instantly disliked. He answered the question professionally, though, talking about how he and the physicist he was portraying were actually very different people, but how the role had opened his eyes to the fascination of the universe. He managed to throw in a few little space facts, too, although the interviewer didn’t look as impressed as Castiel felt he should. 

“How are you enjoying Texas?” The guy asked in an unctuous manner. Castiel had decided as soon as he’d walked into this interview that his dislike was mutual. He couldn't help but feel like this guy was out to get him. It was the way of the business though, sometimes people had made up their minds about him before they’d even met. 

“It’s been fine, yeah. I haven’t really had a chance to do anything besides the shoot.” Castiel said. He couldn’t figure out this guy’s angle. He was definitely not a fan of his. Was he trying to make him look boring? Or stupid? 

“Well I hope you get a chance to see some of the sights.” The interviewer was all but sneering, honestly, it was ridiculous. “When do you head back to LA?” 

“We finished shooting today, so we’re going home tomorrow.” 

“Oh. Well maybe next time, then. How are things with your husband?” 

It was difficult to keep the anxiety at bay now he’d brought Dean into the conversation. Cas still couldn’t figure out quite what he was getting at. Was he a homophobe? Views in parts of the south weren’t quite as liberal as elsewhere, he supposed. Was that this guy’s problem? Was he just a huge dick? But another, nagging thought at the back of his mind was running wild. Did this guy somehow know how difficult Cas was finding Dean’s mood recently? Could Ellen Page or Michael Cera, or even Charlie have let slip that they were having issues communicating again? What would the press think of that?

“Yeah, we’re great.” Cas said confidently, sure to smile like a fucking blushing bride. His gaze dropped to the interviewer’s left hand, to the gold band on his ring finger. He was probably married to some middle aged woman, probably lived in a house with a white picket fence, a Labrador and three children. Apple-pie, as Dean would say. Pretty far from his reality. “Never better.” 

The interviewer’s smirk turned his stomach, because if he hadn’t been worried before then he would have been now. A sense of impending horror filled his heart and lungs and he had to remind himself to suck in air as the guy’s mouth opened again. “I’m glad to hear it. What was he doing  earlier with his ex-girlfriend in Kansas?” 

Keeping his face straight when a bomb like that went off in it was a harder challenge than he’d have admitted, considering the oscar in his awards cabinet at home. Castiel kept his smile firmly in place, and tried to pretend like the floor hadn’t just fallen out from underneath his feet. “Oh, well you know, they’re civil.” 

Whatever happened, he was _not_ going to give this asshole a reaction.


	5. Don't Tell Me You Need Me If You Don't Believe It

With a thumb hovering over the call icon, Castiel paused. A million thoughts were going through his mind, each one worse than the last.

Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean. 

His fucking husband. _His_ fucking husband. 

He glanced back at his iPad again, at the, admittedly poor quality, paparazzi photo taken earlier today that showed a man who was unmistakably his husband sitting in a restaurant with a woman that was unmistakably his ex-girlfriend, Lisa Braeden. 

He hadn’t been that stupid, had he? Hadn’t been so naive as to be dragged into a lie for these two years? It was real, _wasn’t it_? He was loved, right? And yet, Lisa. Fucking Lisa. That bitch was always out to destroy him, out to crush any fucking happiness he thought he’d found. Had she really succeeded? Had she really taken Dean away from him? There was really no other reason he could settle on as to why Dean would be meeting her without his knowledge. They were sleeping together. It was the only possible answer. His mind raced over the last two weeks and Dean’s weird attitude. But then again, for all he knew, he could have been cheating the whole fucking time. He was low enough right now to believe that was a possibility. 

 _Stop being a coward_. 

Castiel hit dial, and each ring on the line made his heart throb painfully. It rang out for longer than it usually did, which wasn’t helping his anxiety. 

“Hey.” Dean’s deep voice filled the silence and sent Castiel’s mind into panic. But he had to play it cool, couldn’t let on that he knew anything was up. Dean would tell him the truth now, because this panic was all in his head, right? 

“Hey.” Cas replied softly. “How are you?” 

“Yeah Cas, I’m fine.” Dean responded, and Cas was sure he sounded flustered. _What if this isn’t in my head?_ “How was the interview?” 

“Fine.” Cas couldn’t help but be abrupt, he felt like he was about to break. “The guy was a jerk though.” 

“What do you mean? Did he say something to you?” The protective tone to Dean’s voice bolstered Castiel’s heart a little, and he took a breath. _Please fucking god let this be in my head._  

“No.” Castiel lied. “I just didn’t like him.” He paused, waiting to see if Dean would say anything, but a tense silence filled the air instead. _Now or never_. “What have you been up to today?” 

“Nothing really.” Dean said, and Castiel’s heart might have stopped because he couldn’t feel it any more. “Just chilling at home.” 

The one good thing about speaking on the phone was that Dean couldn’t see the tears that had started to fall down Castiel’s cheeks. The lie had destroyed him, and he was glad Dean couldn’t see his fallen expression or how he’d pulled his knees up close to his chest. 

Whatever was going on, Cas knew he wasn’t going to like it. How had he done this, again? Been lulled into this sense of security, been lulled into thinking he was actually, finally allowed to be happy? He wasn’t enough, was he? He’d never _be enough._ Whether it was the fact that he was a man or something else, he was never going to be worthy of Dean.

It could be the worse option, too. He didn’t think his husband would sink so low, but what if he was using him for his fame and fortune? 

It probably wasn’t that sinister, though. Maybe Dean was just better. Maybe he’d healed enough, and with his healing he’d realised he wanted something else. That’s what had happened when they were kids, after all. Every fucking time Dean needed to heal, like when he kissed him after he’d slept with Cassie, how he’d asked for a hand job when he’d fucked up with Anna, he’d gone to Cas and used him, and then he’d moved on. Did this mean the end, then? Was Lisa his end game? 

His mind was so self destructive. He remembered finding the engagement ring in Dean’s apartment, the one he’d intended to give to her. _I don’t think she’s what I want any more_. Dean had said to him. What if he’d changed his mind, again? And, as he recalled with horror, he remembered Charlie telling him that Lisa and her fiancé, Jess’s brother Matt, had recently separated.

“I’ve got to go.” Castiel managed to say without so much as a gargle. “I miss you.” 

He hung up the phone before he could hear an “I miss you too”, because he wasn’t even sure if it was coming, and if it had he’d doubt it was real. 

 

*

 

When you spend your life in someone’s proximity, whether as a friend or a paid security guard, you find yourself getting to know them on a fairly intimate level. Kevin had been working for Castiel for six years now, had worked himself up to his head of security within three. The young man was intelligent and professional, and Castiel trusted him with his life. 

It had been a relief, when Castiel and Dean had finally got together two and a half years ago. Kevin  had played a small role in their making, and he’d been pleased for his boss and friend when things started to finally go right for him. It had been obvious for years before that he’d struggled with who he was until Dean came along, and it all fit into place. 

He’d never seen Castiel so happy as when they were together, and although he wouldn’t admit it, he may have shed a tear or two on their wedding day. 

So now, as they flew in Castiel’s private jet, mile high on their way home to LA and to Dean, Kevin felt like smashing something into pieces at the sight of his boss’s face. He should have been more careful yesterday. He’d hovered around during the interview, but he hadn’t bothered to listen to the chatter, because why the hell would he? All they ever talked about was movies in those things. And yet, something else had definitely been said, because last night Castiel had stormed out of there like he was gasping for air, and when they’d arrived back at the hotel he’d locked himself away, and only emerged this morning when they were minutes from leaving.

Kevin watched as Cas stared purposefully out of the window, arms folded defensively across his chest and legs pulled up close. He’d seen him like this before, seen him get into some states over the years, but it was all before Dean, or all about Dean. 

The security guard was not, as he’d had to remind the couple several times during the period of time where they were skirting around their feelings, a shrink, and yet, he couldn’t ignore the pain emanating from a man he considered his friend. He’d been around the house enough in the last few weeks to notice things between the two men were a little bit tense, but he figured that was normal, that all couples have the odd rough patch. Had it escalated? Kevin sighed, rolled his eyes, and pulled himself out of his chair to take the empty one next to his boss. And Castiel barely even noticed. 

“Novak.” Kevin caught his attention, and Cas turned his head reluctantly to look the other man in the eye. It was almost surprising how much pain was within his gaze, because for someone that had won so many prestigious awards, he was shit at hiding his emotions. “Talk.” 

Castiel, unsurprisingly, shook his head. It was obvious though that he wanted to talk, wanted to let it out, but Kevin could see his fear was paralysing him. 

“Is it Dean?” Kevin asked, his voice low. There weren’t many others on the flight, but he knew Cas would appreciate the privacy. “Castiel, come on, Jesus. It’s obvious that something’s bothering you and if you go home feeling this pent up about it it’ll turn into a huge fight.” 

The tears came flooding out before Castiel could stop them. He knew Kevin was right, if he went back like this it might all crumble to the ground. If he let it out, maybe he’d get enough composure to come out of it still standing. Besides, he needed the help. He had no fucking idea what to do or say when he got home. “I think he’s cheating on me.” He whispered. 

Kevin had to suppress a laugh, because honestly that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “Are we talking about the same Dean, here?” He asked, trying to appear compassionate rather than showing his boss how ridiculous he thought he was being. “Because the only one I know is completely besotted with you.” 

“He’s been meeting Lisa and lying to me about it.” Cas pointed out, and it took Kevin unawares, because he had to be honest, that was pretty suspicious. 

“Lisa, as in, his ex-girlfriend?” Kevin asked for the clarification even though he was aware who she was. He had to buy some time to think, here. When Castiel nodded, he sighed. “Right. Well… yeah, that’s weird. But cheating? I don’t think he’s got it in him.” 

“He has.” This talk was doing absolutely nothing to reassure Castiel, his heart was pounding worse than ever, and the reminder that Dean _had_ cheated before, albeit always _with_ Cas instead of _on_ him, was doing nothing to help. 

Kevin had to reassess his angle, because that had definitely just backfired and he knew it as well as Castiel did. He was all but talking himself into believing the crazy theory. “I still don’t think he’d cheat on you.” He said confidently. “You remember before you were together, when he stormed out of that restaurant after flooring that model?” 

Castiel nodded, because how could he forget? 

“You know I was the one that found him?” Kevin asked, because he’d never told Castiel about the conversation he’d had with his now husband that night, but maybe the actor needed to understand now. “I’ve never seen a man more heartbroken.” He said truthfully. “He told me that night that he loved you, and without a doubt he was telling the truth. Hell, I honestly believe he’s always loved you. The way he looked when he came to find you the night before Sam’s wedding? He was so damaged. And yet when he looked at you… he needs you. He still looks at you like that, Novak. I’m not saying you two don’t have a few issues but I can’t believe he’d do that to you.”

“Then why is he lying to me?” Cas blinked back his tears and tried to get ahold on himself. He wanted to believe, truly he did, because he loved Dean with all his fucking heart.

“I don’t know.” Kevin admitted. “I expect he’s got his reasons. He’s never been the best at talking when things aren’t perfect, has he? But you’re not insane either, it does seem weird to me too.” 

Cas chewed his lip at the security guard’s honesty, but he was grateful for the reassurance and support he was offering. 

“Give him tonight to tell you on his own. And if he doesn’t, then ask him about it tomorrow.” Kevin thought aloud. “Just don’t make it into a big thing, Castiel. I’m sure this isn’t about you, and if it isn’t, then he’ll need you.” 

 

*

 

As they trailed back through the front door of the Beverly Hills mansion he called home, Dean was waiting for him. Cas was tired where he’d hardly slept last night, his mind running wild with negative thoughts, and his low mood had left him generally exhausted. He felt so confused that he barely knew how to react when Dean stepped towards him and threw his arms around his shoulders. The closeness and contact was both breaking and making him, and he was only moments from sobbing his heart out when Dean pulled back enough to catch his gaze. 

The love within his husband’s eyes caught him off balance. He was so convinced at this point that it was all about to be over, that he was going to be tossed aside with his heart ripped out for a woman that would parade her victory over him, that when Dean leant in and kissed him he almost felt he was dreaming. Castiel kissed him back, but he must have been hesitant because there was an almost nervous energy radiating from Dean when they broke apart. 

“I missed you too.” Dean said with a smile. He knew something was up, Cas could tell. His eyes were searching for an answer, but Castiel wasn’t going to give him one. It was Dean’s turn to talk. He had tonight to confess, or… Cas didn’t really want to think about the other option. “Last night, you hung up on me before I could say.” 

“Oh.” Castiel half-smiled as if he hadn’t meant to do that. “Sorry about that.” 

Castiel was very aware of Kevin, crouching and watching them with a curious gaze while he untied his boot laces. When Dean threw his arms back over him, clutching him close, Cas caught the security guard’s pointed look, and pulled Dean a little closer. He wasn’t being fair, because he’d already decided that the worst possible option must be the truth. To make up for it, he pressed his lips against Dean’s cheek, and felt the other man’s grin against his shoulder. 

“Shall we go unpack your stuff?” Dean whispered, a little too close to his ear and sending goosebumps down his spine. Cas just smiled, and let his hand be taken as Dean picked up his bag and led the way up to their bedroom. 

When he pushed open the door to the master suite his breath caught a little in his throat. Candle flames were illuminating the room, giving a reddish hue to the otherwise stark white decor. The silvery bed linen was sprinkled with rose petals, and there were even little chocolates on their pillows. As he turned to meet Dean with a shocked expression, it was really fucking hard not to burst into tears. His husband just shrugged, looking pleased with himself. 

If he hadn’t been confused before then he certainly would have been now. If he didn’t know what Dean had been doing while he’d been away, he’d have said his husband was just trying to make amends. He’d have said that Dean was apologising for his shitty behaviour over the last couple of weeks, and he’d have forgiven him instantly and ripped his shirt off. 

But he did know. He knew where Dean had been and who he’d seen, and that he’d lied about it. So what the hell was this? Why go to all the effort if Cas wasn’t what he wanted? Did that mean he’d never been what he wanted? What if he’d been cheating the whole time? 

There wasn’t time for processing his paranoid thoughts, because his husband was here and eyeing him a little nervously. It was unlike him to be so romantic. Castiel paused for a heartbeat before he decided to go through with it, to have Dean again because he couldn’t know if it would be the last time. And maybe, if he was good enough, he could convince his husband to stay. 

Sucking in a breath, Cas lifted his hands to Dean’s cheeks, watching the broad grin erupt on the love of his life’s face, and leant in to gently press their lips together. Dean hummed happily at the contact, his hands taking Castiel by the hips. Cas tried not to let it, but the kiss felt so good and so real that he couldn’t help but feel a little reassured. _How_ could this be in his head when it felt so right? 

As Dean let his lips part and Cas licked into him they let out a collective groan at the way their bodies moved in sync. Cas could feel the growing erection in Dean’s jeans pressing up against his leg, and he was loving how the mechanic was shifting closer for more pressure and more purchase. He dropped a hand to Dean’s ass and dragged him yet closer, creating a gentle rhythm to rut his husband against him. 

They were both feeling needy by the time they pulled their lips apart for long enough to drag their shirts over their heads. Cas took Dean’s hands in his own and led him over to the bed, pushing his husband onto his back with gentle pressure, brushing aside the petals and the chocolates, and kneeling dominantly above him. 

Dean groaned as Castiel dipped his lips to his chest, as he placed soft kisses over each one of his scars and ran his tongue over his nipple. He watched with building desire while the actor unbuttoned his jeans, and teased the hard line drawn in the fabric of his boxers with a firm finger. Cas lowered his mouth over, next, nibbling lightly through the fabric and causing Dean to shiver underneath him. He could see Dean was ready for everything that came next, and physically he was too, but he needed more first. Cas pushed his knee between Dean’s leg and leant back up to kiss his husband again, revelling in the warmth of the response and gasping as his cock pressed against Dean’s hip. Dean’s hands ran through his hair, pulling at the messy lengths, and when he opened his eyes the gaze he met was one of complete lust and love and trust, and he didn’t have it in him to doubt it was true, so he let himself believe it was. 

As nice as the sight was, though, it was too powerful and he was too fragile. He pulled back, trailing his lips instead down Dean’s neck and chest, and stripping his husband of his boxers and jeans with firm hands when he’d reached them. The sight of his naked husband still took him aback even now, he was sure it should be amongst the wonders of the world. 

Castiel licked his lips as he continued to move south, his hands gripping into Dean’s thighs as his mouth sucked and nibbled his hipbones, avoiding the needy cock that sat alert and leaking next to him. With a firm push, he spread Dean’s legs, and his husband was eager to allow him access. He was going to take this slow, savour every moment. _Just in case._  

He tracked his tongue down Dean’s perineum, the other man shuddering with anticipation underneath him, and as he licked out and circled his hole, curse words were flowing from his husband’s mouth. He teased his way around for a few moments more until a single plea escaped Dean’s lips, and with that he pressed inside, adding a finger a few seconds later to help with the stretch. He let his mind focus on the pleasure, and he crooked his finger just right, feeling the obvious clench and tense from his lover around him. 

The assault continued for a long while, and Castiel kept adding his fingers until Dean was ready for anything, a writhing mess begging him for his cock. 

But he wasn’t ready for that, not yet. He pulled his tongue from Dean’s hole, keeping two fingers inside just gently stimulating his prostate, and instead licked his way back upwards, pausing to gently suck on his balls before lightly nibbling on the flesh of Dean’s cock. When he reached the tip he let a hot breath wash over it, and his tongue darted out to catch the beads of cooling precome already there. Dean was practically crying by the time Castiel’s lips had taken his whole length between them. His practiced suppression of his gag reflex had him right at the back of his throat and Dean was sure he was going to come before it was time if this carried on. 

“Cas, please.” He begged again, even though his previous efforts had been fruitless. “Please baby, I need you.” 

With a little suck at the head of his cock Castiel pumped down again, and Dean had to pull him off himself or he’d have exploded with the next movement. Cas could see how close he’d become, so he allowed him the pause, instead leaning up for another kiss while his husband fought his wave away. He used the time to shuffle his jeans and boxers down and gracelessly kick them off of his ankles, finally allowing the cool air to stroke his own throbbing erection. 

When Dean had recovered a little, he nodded, and Cas grabbed the lube from the side table and rubbed a good amount over his neglected dick, humming a little at the realisation of pleasure. He paused for half a heartbeat as he lined up, because he supposed if they weren’t exclusive any more then really they should be using protection, but that wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have right now and they’d been barebacking for long enough that he’d already be screwed if Dean had been so stupid as to catch something. 

The thought was a sour one, and he pushed it from his mind as he pushed his cock inside his husband. Dean gasped as he was pounded into, as Cas pressed against his prostate and that rush reclaimed him. All Castiel could focus on was his husband’s beautiful, pleading face, and he kept their gazes together as he thrusted in again and again. 

Dean was so fucking tight and warm and it made him feel so safe and loved and whole. Sweat was beading on their brows and he could see how hard Dean was fighting not to grab his own cock and jack off until he came. Castiel wouldn’t have let him anyway, this was going to be all him, but the devotion was nice. 

He thrust in again and Dean’s back was arching, his mouth hanging a little open and drool just catching at the corner of his lips. He looked so helpless and vulnerable, laid bare with his scars on display. It was hard to imagine he might be stabbing Cas in the back as he led there looking like that. 

Dean was so beautiful, and so loved.

“I love you.” Castiel whispered as he pushed forward again, his hands grabbing onto Dean’s thighs for purchase. 

Any response Dean wanted to give was lost in his orgasm, as his come began to spurt from his cock and his body shuddered out his release onto his stomach. The clenching of his hole made it too hard for Castiel to hang on, and as it tightened around him he spilled, overwhelmed by his conflicting pleasure and the devastation that this may all be over now. 

They’d had better sex before, but it was rarely so emotional. Where they would normally have grinned, peeled apart from each other and gone to clean up, Castiel couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from Dean even for a moment. Dean wasn’t complaining either, about how Cas had collapsed down on top of him and was clinging to him so desperately. His arms wrapped around Castiel’s back and held him closely in place while he kissed his hair. Castiel was lucky that they were both so sweaty, because it meant Dean didn’t notice the tear that fell from his eye. 

It was only early, just gone 9pm, and yet Cas was exhausted. His eyes fluttered closed as he rested on his husband’s chest, held safe and secure, and his cock was still inside Dean as sleep claimed him. 

 

So don’t call me baby,

Unless you mean it.

**Don’t tell me you need me,**

**If you don’t believe it.**

So let me know the truth,

Before I dive right into you.


	6. Running in Circles, Chasing Our Tails

Tell me you love me, 

Come back and haunt me, 

Oh, and I rush to the start.

**Running in circles,**

**Chasing our tails,**

Coming back as we are. 

 

_“You deserve this. You know you do. You deserve every last piece of this because it’s all your fault. All of it. You’re worthless, boy.”_

_This was just how his life was, just the usual thing he’d come to expect. And he believed it, too. It was his fault. It was his fault that his father treated him like this, because he hadn’t saved her, had he? He hadn’t saved his own mother. Worthless was right. He deserved the punches, and he wasn’t worthy of anything better._

_Another blow to his stomach left more pain, but he took it, and somehow he stayed standing. But the next punch caught him just below his collarbone, and he was almost sure he’d fall. He wobbled, but he just about made it. John didn't like it when he fell. It reminded him how weak his son was. But he fell almost every time. Because he_ was _weak._

_“You’re a worthless piece of shit.”_

_He was a worthless piece of shit. All he ever did was fail, all he ever did was cause pain. He’d failed them all. He’d failed his mom, he’d failed Sam, he’d failed Castiel. He would always fail. It was who he was. It was in his nature, written through his every atom. He was a failure, and he deserved each and every ounce of the pain he was given._

_The fist connected again with his stomach and he curled over at the agony, but he managed to straighten slowly back out. There were tears on his cheeks now, though. Why did he always have to cry? His dad hated when he cried, and he knew the next blow would be the worse for his tears._

_“Pathetic. Weak. Disgusting.”_

_John was right. He was all of those things. And no one would ever love him because of it. He didn’t deserve love. He was pushed backward, forced to step into the kitchen, and John’s hand grabbed into his hair as he switched on the stove, and for a moment he thought this was it, that this was the end. He was going to watch him burn. At least the release would be sweet. There would be relief._

 

*

 

When Dean woke, gasping for air and covered in sweat, his hands went automatically to his face, trying to rub away the strain of the nightmare. There were tears on his cheeks, and he squeezed his eyes closed to stop the remainder from falling. It had all come back to him in the last few weeks, every ounce of pain he’d felt as a kid had slowly ebbed its way back into his heart, all his healing for nothing. 

To say he was drowning was an understatement, and Dean was someone who’d almost drowned more than once before. 

For the reassurance, he rolled, groping in the bed for his husband, not caring if he woke the man up because he was sure he’d probably been making enough noise in his dream state anyway. When his hands met nothing but cold sheets, Dean opened his eyes, frowning at the sight of the empty space in the bed next to him. Where the hell was Cas? 

He was feeling so fucking fragile right now, and even though the obvious guess would be that Cas was probably in the bathroom, his mind jumped straight in and assumed the worst. He’d been abandoned at last, hadn’t he? 

Pulling the sheets quickly back, Dean clambered out of the bed awkwardly and dragged a robe over his naked body. A sense of dread filled his heart although he couldn’t place why it was there. He tried to focus on the loving, tender sex they’d had the night before, and yet there was a sadness in Castiel last night that he hadn’t felt for a long time, not since the very early days of their relationship. Oh god, had he blown it?

It was still late, or perhaps early. The red digital numbers on the clock showed the time, 03.28am, but Dean paid them no mind as he scurried into the bathroom to find his husband, heart sinking and trying not to let panic overwhelm him when he found the room empty. 

If Castiel wanted him out of his life, he wouldn’t just leave in the dead of night, surely? Perhaps his husband was having trouble sleeping.

Perhaps. But he knew, really. He knew that he’d been awful this last few weeks, but with everything going on his head it was a miracle he hadn’t broken completely already. He had to talk, and soon, but he needed to figure out how the hell to get the words out. He hoped and prayed that he hadn’t been so terrible that Cas had given up. He hadn’t felt like things were broken irreparably between them. But clearly last night’s wordless apology wasn’t enough. 

Dean ran his hands over his face, taking in a deep breath to steady his nerves as he opened the door to the bedroom and padded gently down the stairs, listening out for any indication of where his husband might be at this ungodly hour. He tried the bar first, because that’s what he’d have done if he was feeling low and couldn’t sleep, but it was empty, his husband not one for drinking himself to oblivion to hide his pain. He turned then, and instead pushed open the door to the living room, half relieved and half terrified at the sight of the love of his life on the couch, sitting with his head in his hands. 

As he approached, Castiel looked up, and it was the sight of his completely broken expression that sent Dean’s mind into panic mode. His husband looked awful, with red rimmed eyes, damp cheeks. His gaze held a strong mix of emotion; hurt, strength, betrayal, vulnerability. Dean’s breath caught as he stared into Castiel’s eyes, and he had to fight to keep his panic at bay. 

“Hey.” Dean managed to whisper gently, although god only knows where he found the strength to speak. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Cas offered the explanation in a horribly bitter tone.

“No, me either.” Dean softly replied. 

Castiel glanced quickly away before sucking in a deep breath, and reconnecting their eyes. His face began to fall even before he’d spoken. 

“Dean, are we over?” 

It felt like every bone in his body was crushed all at once. The words hit Dean with the force of a bus at 80 miles an hour, smashing the air out of him as his eyes popped wide open. How he didn’t fall to his knees Dean would never know. 

 _Are we over?_ The words echoed in Dean’s mind as he stared at his husband in disbelief. He was already crying, he knew, and his mouth hung open in shock and horror. Where had that come from? He knew he’d been irritable and he knew he could have been better, but Cas wasn’t so easily angered as to break things off after he’d been in a mood for a fortnight, even if it was a _really_ bad mood. So that meant… oh holy fuck that meant Cas wanted this to be over. 

A million pleas sat on his tongue, a million ways to beg his husband to reconsider, but only one made its way out. 

“Please don’t leave me.” Dean heard himself say, and all of the things his father had called him came back at once. Pathetic, weak, disgusting, worthless, unlovable. 

Castiel wasn’t looking at him now, couldn’t look at him. He probably couldn’t bear the pathetic sight of a man so torn apart that he wasn’t sure he’d make it through the day. He obviously did care though, because he was crying too. And seeing his pain just made Dean’s worse.

“I don’t want to leave you.” Castiel said finally, lifting his head back up to meet Dean’s gaze. “But I can’t… I can’t do this… I…” Cas paused and swallowed, trying to gain control over himself. “I know what you’ve been doing, Dean.” 

_What you’ve been doing? What? What the hell is he on about?_

“What?” Dean spat out, a little more forcefully than he’d intended but he didn’t have control over his lungs at the moment, so the fact he could speak was a victory in itself. 

“You got papped, you idiot. I know you’re seeing her.” Cas managed, and the floor fell out from under Dean’s feet. 

 _Oh god._ This was not how he’d wanted to explain himself. How had he been such a dick? He’d been so careful, or so he’d thought. Dean paused while the words formulated in his mind, trying to come up with an eloquent argument while convincing Castiel to stay, but his vision was blurring, now, and his heart was pounding furiously. 

“No…” Was all Dean could get out. 

Castiel glared at him, his pain turning to anger. “No?” He spat. “Don’t try and fucking deny it. Just do me the decency of telling me the truth, and then get the fuck out of my house.” 

“Cas… please…” Dean’s world was falling apart and the walls were caving in. His vision was going dark and he might just die on the spot. It hurt enough. 

“Just tell me the truth, Dean. Just admit it. Admit you’re fucking her.” Cas pulled himself up to his feet and squared up to his husband, just inches from his face. Dean just stared back at him like a deer in headlights. 

“No… Cas… it’s not…” He gasped.

“Not what it looks like? Fuck off Dean. It’s exactly what it looks like.” 

“No. She…” Dean took a deep breath, and placed his hand on Castiel’s chest, the touch grounding them both. “She’s had a baby.” 

And oh fuck, that probably wasn’t the best way to explain himself. Now he looked even fucking worse _and_ he’d just wasted that tiny bit of courage to spit it out. He watched his husband’s face fall even harder and he couldn’t do anything about it. Oh fucking fuck, he shouldn’t have said it like that. Castiel looked completely broken, and Dean knew, he fucking _knew_ how much his husband wanted a baby. He was such an idiot. 

“Cas… not… it’s not…” Dean couldn’t even breathe now, and his legs gave out. His body crumpled to the ground, but his husband caught his head before it could smash against the coffee table. 

 

*

 

It might have been an hour or more before he came round. He had no clue how long had passed, but when Dean’s eyes finally flashed open they landed on his husband, sitting on the floor, leaning against the coffee table with his knees pulled up close to his chest and his head resting on them. Dean shuffled, realising Castiel had moved him up so that he was lying on the couch, and his small movement made enough noise that Cas lifted his head, looking carefully up at his husband through wet lashes. 

Dean’s heart was breaking at the sight of the pain written on the face of the man he loved so much. Castiel looked devastated, and he knew he should have been honest way sooner — this mess had definitely been avoidable — but he was a coward and he was scared and he’d been too broken to ask for the help he needed. Why was he such an idiot? He hadn’t meant for Cas to get hurt at all. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Castiel choked out after a few moments of a tense silence. He was feeling so inadequate and vulnerable and it was killing him. He felt betrayed in every sense of the word. Not only had his husband been cheating, but to have a baby with Lisa when he was always so adamant that it wasn’t what he wanted was a complete stab in the back. Was that why he’d been so weird when Conan had brought up having children? He’d been right though, hadn’t he? He wasn’t enough, wasn’t capable of being enough. 

“No.” Dean shook his head, extending out a hand that went untaken. “It’s not about you.” 

While Dean tried to figure out what to say and how to explain himself without landing them in deeper shit, Castiel ran his hands over his eyes, rubbing the tears away and trying to hold his pain back. Dean watched him, desperately trying to string the words together. 

“He’s not my baby.” Dean said finally, figuring that was the most important point to get across. He could understand how it looked, he could, but he was disappointed that Cas would think that of him. His husband’s eyes perked up in interest then, and Dean could see the edgy, nervous expression emerging from beneath the broken one. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, that much was obvious. “He’s not, Cas. He’s not. I _married_ _you_.” 

Castiel had to chew the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking down in another wave of sobbing. He wanted to believe Dean, really, he did, but the heartbreak was so intense that hope was dangerous. He stared into his husband’s eyes, and when Dean offered his hand back out Castiel shuffled closer, maintaining their gaze and searching for the truth. 

“What’s going on?” Cas settled finally on the question. 

Taking a deep breath in, Dean squeezed his eyes shut in agitation. “Three weeks ago, a couple of days after Conan, Lisa sent me a message. It said, ‘here’s the newest member of your family’, and there was a picture of her baby.” 

Cas furrowed his brow, because the story so far was doing nothing to resolve his fears about the child’s parentage. 

“She… ugh.” Dean trailed off because the pain had come back full force, and with it the words were catching again. Cas took his hand before he could use it to hide his face, and he caught the wary but almost hopeful gaze of the man he loved, spurring him on. “She’s blackmailing me, Cas.” 

“What?” Castiel asked, confused. He leant forward onto his knees so he was closer to his husband, beginning to believe in him despite the ache in his heart. 

“She said if I don’t pay her off then she’ll tell the world it’s my baby. Destroy my reputation.” 

Cas smiled then, because if it was really that simple then it was an easy fix. “So? We can prove she’s lying. Just get a DNA test.” His heart started to plummet again at the sight of Dean’s face. 

“I can’t.” Dean whispered, and there were tears on his cheeks. “He’s not my baby but he _is_ my blood. And I can’t, Cas. I just can’t have everyone knowing.” 

“What… what are you talking about? Did she somehow freeze your sperm?” Castiel was seriously confused now, because there was no possible way this baby could be Sam’s, right? “Sam wouldn’t…” 

“Not Sam’s.” Dean breathed, nibbling his lip in his distress. “And not mine.” 

“Dean, whose baby is it?” Castiel was more alarmed than he’d have thought possible.

“Adam’s.” Dean was crying again, his heart pumping three hundred beats per minute while his chest tightened. 

“Who is Adam?”

Castiel had to move closer and cup Dean’s cheek in his hand before his husband was even capable of answering his question. The man was a mess, breaking in front of him. 

“It turns out he’s my brother.” 


	7. You Shouldn't Be Fighting on Your Own

“He’s _what_?” Castiel asked, aghast. “Dean!” 

His hand went out to his husband’s shoulder, but by the time he’d even reached it Dean was a complete state, broken down in sobs and grasping out for him. Cas couldn’t bear to see him like this, and his arms automatically wrapped around him, pulling Dean’s head into his shoulder while he cried in earnest. 

Cas didn’t know how long he held Dean like that. His mind was too much of a mess to have paid time any heed, but it was starting to get light outside. He was relieved, so relieved, because he believed it now, that the baby wasn’t Dean’s. It explained everything — from Dean’s weird relapse this last couple of weeks to why he’d have gone to see Lisa. Besides, it was too convoluted a story to be a fiction, and Dean was a terrible actor unlike his husband. Yet, his mind was burning with questions, desire for more information. How could Dean possibly have another brother? He pressed a kiss into Dean’s temple and the other man clutched him ever closer, kissing into his neck when he’d remembered that it was alright to do that. 

“Please don’t leave me, Cas.” Dean choked through his sobs, and Cas stroked his hair softly. He let go of Dean just enough to climb up onto the couch with him, before pulling him back closely against him. 

“I won’t, baby, I won’t. I’m sorry… I just… I thought…” Cas whispered, but it didn’t matter now what he’d thought because he’d been wrong. He could only remember one other time when he was this glad to be wrong. The time when Dean first told him he loved him.  

“I’d never cheat on you.” Dean cried. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Cas soothed, and they held each other for some time until Dean had stilled again, and despite the nagging need for more information in his head, when he realised his husband had cried himself to sleep in his arms he didn’t have it in him to wake him up. So instead, he clutched him close, and closed his eyes. 

 

*

 

Not long passed, probably a couple of hours by Castiel’s best guess, before he was awake again. The squashy grey couch was usually very comfortable, but it certainly wasn’t made for two adult men to sleep on together, and Cas had jolted awake when he’d gone to roll and almost fallen off the edge. Dean didn’t seem to have noticed, still sound asleep in his arms, but the sun was risen and the room was full of a bright morning light. 

Cas was still exhausted, having hardly slept all night and the precious few hours he’d gained this morning having been filled with those horrible dreams again, the ones where he was trapped here, watching a teenage Dean be beaten in Kansas. It would always be his biggest regret, not pushing the matter further, not figuring things out. He still chastised himself for being so stupid. Dean was constantly injured and hurt and he never thought to question why. You’d have thought he would have, considering Dean had always been graceful in his presence and yet at home he apparently tripped up more often than he stood still. 

The words from last night were haunting him. _It turns out he’s my brother_. How could Dean have another brother? And one old enough to be a father? He’d known him almost his whole life, they’d only been four when they’d first met. 

Cas jumped as the door to the living room swung loudly open, the cleaning lady pottering in as she always did of a morning, completely oblivious to the two men she’d just disturbed. Cas leaned back and raised his head so he could see over the back of the couch, and she looked completely mortified when she caught sight of him. She very rarely saw the movie star, after all, and here he was sleeping on the couch. 

“Hi.” Cas whispered, trying not to wake Dean. “You can skip this room today, thanks.” 

The woman nodded and hurried back out, but in her rush her mop and bucket clashed together noisily, and as the door shut behind her Dean was stirring at Castiel’s side. As Cas lowered his head back down his husband’s eyes opened, and they were still full of pain and sorrow as they regarded him. 

“Morning.” Castiel said softly, stroking a thumb along Dean’s cheek. 

Dean wouldn’t, or couldn’t even smile. “Morning.”

They lay in an awkward silence for some time, because they both knew they needed to talk seriously and yet neither knew where to begin. Cas wished they didn’t have to, wished they could just revert back to the place they were at only a few weeks ago, wished things were as simple as they had been in the Seychelles. After an awkward few moments, Cas couldn’t handle it any more, but instead of jumping straight into talks, he leant forward, kissing Dean firmly on the lips while his husband pressed back against him. 

As they broke apart, Dean hummed happily and smiled, because maybe everything would be alright with Castiel at his side. He’d been such an idiot for not talking sooner. He didn’t want to think about how close he’d come to losing him last night. 

“John had another family.” Dean said suddenly, because they were in this together now and he needed the help. Cas just raised his eyebrows in response, so Dean continued. “He had a wife and a son, a dog and a house. He probably had a white picket fucking fence.” 

It was hard not to feel bitter about it, when he’d had the upbringing from hell, that the man who’d tortured him day in and out had been the perfect fucking father for another kid. 

“He told Lisa about them before he died. He fucking told her, and she never told me or Sam. Neither of them thought to bother.” Dean breathed out, trying to keep the pain at bay. It was getting harder by the second even despite the understanding in his husband’s expression. His mind was still questioning everything, and he didn’t like to think about when John would have got the opportunity to speak to her about that stuff, but Lisa had given him the impression there had been plenty of chances. Dean wondered if she’d been screwing his father while she was his girlfriend. Maybe that was why John liked her so much. “He told them he worked away. But he was the perfect father.”

There were tears on Dean’s cheeks again now, and he swatted them irritably away, watching the sympathy in Castiel’s gaze. “I can’t tell the truth, Cas, because it’s completely destroying me. How can I tell the world that he just did those things to me because he wanted to? That he could be the ideal dad for another kid but the fault was mine? That he just _didn’t want to be_ a dad to me or Sam?” 

Castiel felt as heartbroken as Dean looked. He had no idea what to say, either, because Dean was right, and it was both agonising and humiliating for him. Cas was angry, too. Angry with John, angry with the universe for handing them yet more shit when all they’d ever done was clean up John’s mess. He pulled Dean close again and felt the quick, hot breaths on his neck that meant Dean was sobbing into him. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.” Dean cried. “I had no idea how. It’s ruined me, Cas. Everything I’d achieved… it’s all gone. I’m as much of a mess now as I was three years ago.” 

“No you’re not.” Castiel said softly, his hand coursing through Dean’s short hair. “You wouldn’t have ever talked about it three years ago. Even to me, even if I’d threatened to leave. You wouldn’t have admitted that it’s hurting, or that you’re scared or angry or sad or anything. You’d have bottled it up like you always did. It hurts now, I get that, but you have healed, Dean. And you will get better.” 

There was some truth to Castiel’s words, Dean supposed. He thought back to how he was before Sam’s wedding, to his world before Cas returned to it. He wouldn’t have made it out of there alive if he’d known then what he knew now. As angry as he was that Lisa and his father kept such a monumental secret from him, it was a good thing they hadn’t told him at that time in his life. He could hardly be considered stable, now, and yet he was a million times better than he had ever been before. 

“Have you told Sam yet?” Cas asked after an amicable pause. 

“I have no idea how to tell him.” Dean admitted. He was dreading his brother’s reaction. He’d either get sympathy or anger, and he couldn’t bring himself to deal with either right now. 

“We can do it together, if you want.” Cas let a soft smile lift his lips, and Dean couldn’t help but return it because he was so in love it was cringeworthy, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to be embarrassed either. His gaze left Castiel feeling guilty, because he’d been just as much of an ass over the last few weeks trying to deal with Dean’s mood. He’d said things he wished he could take back. “I’m sorry for what I said to you last night… I… you know this is _our_ house, don’t you? I just… I—”

“—Yeah, Cas, I know. It’s ok. I forgive you. I’ve said way worse to you in the last couple of weeks.” Dean interrupted, a sadness lacing his tone. 

“You’re already forgiven.” Castiel whispered, and he leant in to kiss his husband again. 

“We need to talk about the fact that you thought I could cheat on you, Cas.” Dean said, because that worried him and he needed to drag the attention away for just a little while at least. Castiel’s expression turned to one of embarrassment and he tried to look away, but Dean cupped his cheek and forced their gazes to remain on one another’s. “I wouldn’t ever do that to you. You know how much I love you, right?” 

“I’m sorry.” Cas whispered. “I just… I know. I do. But you were acting so weird and… that reporter in Houston, he just dropped her into conversation like I should know you were with her, and then you lied about it on the phone and… Kevin told me I was being an idiot.” 

“You talked to Kevin about it?” Dean was surprised. He wasn’t angry at all, in fact, he was pleased Castiel had someone he felt he could turn to aside from himself and Charlie. 

“Yeah, and he was right, like usual.” Cas let a small smile lift his lips. 

Dean grinned, because he knew first hand that the security guard’s advice was usually worth listening to. His smile softened and he stroked a hand down Castiel’s cheek. Oh god, he was so in love it hurt. 

“No one else has ever belonged in my arms, Cas.” He recited. “I tried life without you, baby, and it wasn’t worth living.” 

At the reminder of Dean’s wedding speech Castiel crumpled. Tears began to stream from his eyes and he nuzzled into his husband’s neck to get as close as possible while Dean pressed kisses into his hair. No matter what Dean said, he was a thousand times more stable than he had been when he’d first told Castiel the truth three years ago. Back then, he wouldn’t have coped with the fact itself, let alone been able to (almost) calmly admit everything and then casually talk about something different. Particularly something so raw as his love. 

“Fucking hell Dean.” Cas let a laugh escape, because although everything was hurting he was so relieved and so happy that Dean was still his. “I love you so much.” 

They grinned at each other for a few moments, lost in each other’s eyes, and the intensity of their gaze was so strong. Neither was sure who leaned in, but their lips met in a heated clash, and they kissed with desperation for a while before Dean pulled away. He had to get the rest of this off of his chest, and he had to do it now. 

“I don’t know what to do, Cas.” 

Cas sucked in a breath, because he didn’t really know either. “Ok, so your options. You can pay her off and risk her telling everyone anyway, you can ignore her and have everyone say the baby is yours, or you can try and disprove her, but have everyone find out about Adam.” 

“I don’t think I can handle everyone knowing about Adam.” Dean said, although it hadn’t hurt as badly as he’d have thought it would, telling Castiel about it. But maybe that was just because he was his husband. Maybe when it came to telling Sam it would be worse. 

“Then I don’t know what to say.” Cas admitted. “The thing is Dean, she knows about him, she could choose to make it public knowledge at any time. She’ll do whatever suits her.” He paused for a while as he took in Dean’s expression. “You can’t seriously consider paying her, it makes you look guilty. And she’s not worth the money.” 

Dean groaned. “No. I know.” He’d accepted this a while ago, but the alternative options weren’t exactly ideal. 

“Dean…” Cas began, taking a breath while Dean eyed him cautiously. “I don’t know if you’re going to like it but I really think we ought to talk to Naomi about this. She’ll know what to do and how to come out of it best.” 

Dean sighed, because he didn’t really want to have to talk about it again, but he knew that Cas was right, that Naomi not only needed to know but she had one of the most rational minds he’d ever come across, that she’d help and support him to come out of this alive. She might be a royal pain in the ass, most of the time, but she was one of the few people he trusted enough with his life, and his husband’s. “Yeah, you're right.” 

 

*

 

It had been Castiel that had done most of the explaining. Dean had sat with his head in his hands for most of the conversation, but every time he looked up and caught Naomi’s watchful gaze he knew she was reassured he was ok. He’d been such an ass to her last week, but he knew he was forgiven. She cared a lot really, from inside her tough exterior. And he was alright, actually. It still hurt, a lot, but having it all talked through like this and pulled apart somehow made it easier. It became easier to feel angry rather than betrayed, and both of their reactions made him feel like he hadn’t been making a mountain out of a molehill.

Naomi shuffled a little uncomfortably when they were done. She’d been suspicious when Castiel had called her just after 7am, because both of the men she represented were terrible morning people, the movie star even worse than his husband, and they rarely had need to contact her, it was much more often the other way around. After the way Dean had been acting, she’d feared the worst, mind instantly jumping to ways of preventing divorce. Her imagination had been wilder, but yet again she wasn’t disappointed by the drama in the life of Castiel and Dean Winchester-Novak. 

It wasn’t their fault, she knew, but they somehow always found a way to make everything complicated. This included. What a fucking mess. She was tempted to hunt Lisa down and hold her accountable herself, but that would be inviting a lawsuit. It did at least explain a few things, like Dean’s unusual and erratic behaviour over the last few weeks. Her mind turned the options over for a few brief moments, but the answer was obvious to her. 

“You don’t have a choice, Dean.” She said softly, eyes on the mechanic-come-celebrity. “We can come out of this well, but you need to find Adam yourself and meet him before she can claim the reveal. If you get there first, then we can act like it’s not a big shock. I know it’s not what you want. I know that. But it’s going to come out, whatever you do. Whether she tells the press now or in a year, she’ll tell them. And she’ll hold it against you until it does. We need to be ready for that.” 

Oh _god_. Dean wasn’t sure if he _was_ ready for that. The thought of the world knowing about this guy was bad enough but to actually have to face him was terrifying. It must have been obvious from his face, because Cas grabbed his hand and squeezed it, while the intensity of Naomi’s stare softened. 

“I think she’s right, Dean. It’ll suck, but I’ll be there, and we can speak to Sam too. I think we have to meet him first. He _is_ your brother after all.” Castiel said gently. 

“He’s John’s son.” Dean protested weakly, his voice quiet. 

Neither Naomi or Castiel pointed out the obvious. “Even if he’s a terrible person, at least the media can’t run wild with it, it’ll be like we’ve known all along if we’re in contact already.” Naomi shrugged. “And he might be a good person. You and Sam have turned out alright, considering.” 

“It’s the right option, Dean.” Cas whispered. Dean gazed into his husband’s eyes, knowing he was right and knowing he had to do this to save himself. It didn’t mean he had to like it. He turned to look back at Naomi, and nodded once. She smiled in reassurance. 

“Castiel, I’m cancelling your meeting this afternoon. I think it’d be best if you go straight to Kansas today. You’re off until Monday then, hopefully the weekend will be enough to get things straight. Or at least straighter.” Naomi said with her authoritative tone, while Cas just nodded and Dean sat fidgeting nervously. The thought of an unexpected flight wasn’t helping matters either. But he’d get through this with his family behind him. 

 

‘Cause we all get lost sometimes you know,

It’s how we learn, how we grow.

And I wanna lay with you ’til I’m old, 

**You shouldn’t be fighting on your own.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just need to squeal about the canon because literally how can anyone watch Dean mourning like that and still call it platonic?? DO THEY HAVE EYES?
> 
> As always, thank you for your comments and kudos! Hope you're enjoying!


	8. You Are the Earth That I Will Stand Upon

**You are the earth that I will stand upon,**  
****

You are the words that I will sing. 

 

The afternoon sun was starting to fade into an evening light by the time they were boarding the plane. The sky was displaying an ironically beautiful set of colours, a rainbow of red, orange, yellow and purple. But the glorious sunset was doing nothing to settle Dean’s mood, the rays hitting the airplane and making it glow ominously bright as it shadowed all behind it. 

It was stupid, he knew, that only a few weeks ago he’d had almost no issue in flying, quite literally, half way around the world to spend time away with Castiel, and yet as he leant heavily back against the car and looked up at the aircraft, ready to set off for a 20 shorter hour journey, his heart was pounding furiously. He wasn’t dumb enough not to notice his husband side-eyeing him, but for once his concern was doing nothing to help. When the driver had pulled their bags out of the Bentley, and Cas had started to step forward, it took almost everything he had to follow suit. 

With tight lungs he gripped the handrail to the wobbly metal steps that led the way into the fuselage. Dean was grateful that Cas was behind him, and not in front, because he couldn’t turn to see the fear in his expression. 

He made it though, somehow, and he let Cas usher him into a window seat and let him squeeze his clammy hand as he sat down next to him. He knew why it was bothering him more than it had last month, and yet he couldn’t help but chastise himself for his stupidity, because really, nothing had changed. And yet, it was as if everything had. 

The demons in his heart and mind were tearing him up, reminding him that he was useless, worthless, and he’d deserved everything he was dealt as a kid. John had loved another son, a son worth his time and effort, but Dean was pathetic and a failure. 

Despite this knowledge, he accepted the kiss Cas planted on his cheek. He let his husband fumble with the strap around his hips, and he hummed in an attempt to reassure them both when Cas pulled his head onto his waiting shoulder. He had to allow himself Castiel’s love, because it was the only thing keeping him going. 

But when the engine roared up, he was plunged back into his past. Everywhere he looked, all he could see was that bathroom and the things he’d been forced to do inside. Every face he looked at belonged to the strange man, and every smile and every curious glance turned into a sneer. He heard a yell, and it was a minute or so before he realised it had come out of his own mouth. The plane was rocketing forward now, accelerating towards takeoff, and he was standing, having ripped his belt off. 

There were hands groping at him and he hit them away because he couldn’t go through it again, couldn’t do the things he’d been made do to when he was a child, but after a few agonising seconds he found the clarity, realised it was Castiel’s voice shouting his name at him, not the strange man’s. With the realisation he buckled, and a forceful grip latched onto his middle and pulled him back into the seat, clutching him desperately. 

Dean buried his head in his husband’s chest as he cried and shook, barely breathing and barely lucid, while the plane took off and they were pushed backwards by the gravitational force. When the plane had levelled out, Cas pushed him back to look at him, his gorgeous blue eyes full of concern and sadness as they took in his panicked expression. Kevin said something Dean couldn’t hear, and Cas turned back to him momentarily, taking something out of his palm. 

It had been a while since he’d needed it, but he let Cas pop the pill into his mouth as he begged for peace. 

 

*

 

Castiel held his husband close to his chest for a long while, letting his tears fall into the dark blonde lengths of his hair. He’d tried to be strong, he had, but his heart had broken for the love of his life, because he could see what this was doing to him. He kept his head buried in Dean’s for longer than he needed, the other man was lolling and completely asleep, but Cas couldn’t face looking at Kevin for a long time, because he knew he’d have to talk and explain what was going on, it had become need to know. 

It was a long while before he found the courage, and long after his tears had dried up he carefully manoeuvred his husband back so that he was sitting properly in his own chair, smiling as Dean stirred only the slightest bit. The eyes he met when he turned were, of course, full of questions and curiosity, but the guard had the decency to stay quiet while Castiel found the words and the courage to speak.  

“He’s just found out his dad had another family.” He said finally, feeling a blunt statement might be better than a life story. “One he treated well.” 

Kevin’s brow softened, and the younger man looked genuinely sorry. “That’s a kick in the teeth.” 

“Yeah.” 

There was a long pause while both men let their thoughts flood their minds. 

“I told you he wasn’t cheating on you.” Kevin said after some time, a light smile on his lips. 

Castiel just smiled. “Yeah, you did.” He said. “Lisa was how he found out. John told her about them before he died.” 

One of the things Cas loved about Kevin was his ability to know when to talk and when not to. He wasn’t a man of many words, being usually on the edge of their lives rather than the centre, and he always could sense when Cas needed quiet, like right now. The guard went back to flicking through the news pages on his iPad, and Cas went back to staring at his husband and praying to anyone or anything that would listen for a fucking break. 

 

*

 

After maybe two hours, when they were still at maximum altitude and definitely not quite there yet, Cas watched as Dean’s eyes started to flicker open. He chewed his lip, preparing for the worst, as his hand went out to cup Dean’s cheek in an attempt to reassure him of his safety. 

“Mmm… Cas?” Dean whispered, still half asleep in his sedated state. 

“Yeah?” Castiel responded with a gentle smile.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m dealing with this badly.” Dean slurred. 

“It’s ok.” Cas soothed, stroking his thumb across his husband’s cheek. He was surprised by Dean’s honesty, not to mention his calmness. “We’ll get there.” 

“It just really hurts.” Dean admitted, and the statement gave Cas faith, because the communication was better than he could have hoped for. 

“I know baby.” He said softly.

“I’m dreading meeting him.” His husband almost mumbled. “But maybe when it’s over I can be ok again.” 

“You will be ok again.” Castiel said determinedly. “I’ll help you.” 

“Thanks, Cas.” 

“You’re welcome. Now go back to sleep.” 

 

*

 

It was barely even late by the time they had arrived and were sitting on the couch in Sam and Jess’s front room, catching up on each other’s lives, and yet Dean was falling asleep on the spot. He’d not really woken up since the sedative, actually, having been prescribed the pills for far longer flights than the one from LA to Kansas. 

Castiel had noticed his husband’s head drooping onto his shoulder, and he’d wrapped an arm around him to prop him up, but he was enjoying the small amount of normality they were being offered. They made every effort to see Sam and Jess frequently, but the reality of their very different lives and the distance between them meant that they ended up talking on the phone far more often than seeing each other in person. 

It felt nice just to talk to people about normal things, and to not to have to go into painful detail about his recent movies. It was one of the reasons it had been so easy to become close to Charlie, because she was so normal, he thought. Having that sense of humanity in his day to day life had helped him to stay sane, and he half wondered how he ever survived the celebrity lifestyle before Dean had come sailing into it with him. 

“He’s sound asleep.” Jess commented with a laugh, gesturing at Dean who was all but snoring. 

“It’s the pills for the flight.” Castiel offered in explanation, not failing to miss the suspicious glance the nurse shot him for the statement. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. It had piqued her interest because she knew that Dean had been having therapy, and she probably knew that he hadn’t needed the sedatives to board a plane for quite some time. She had been suspicious already that something was up, because Castiel’s lifestyle meant they very rarely were able to do anything last minute, so when they called this morning she knew it wasn't a routine visit. 

But respectfully, Jess said nothing, just continued to watch them curiously for a brief moment, until Sam suggested they go to bed, that the beers he’d bought for their coming would wait until the following night. Jess smiled at her husband and took his offered hand, letting herself be led up to their bedroom, where Lily was already asleep for the night, her own room having been given up for her uncles. 

Cas wasn’t sure if it would ever stop feeling weird, being inside this house. As he looked around at the changed decor, he was flooded with memories of past days, more painful days. Every room set his senses alight with recollection — happy times, sad times. He’d grown up here, as Sam and Dean had grown up in the house across the street. So much had happened in his home. It was where he’d had his first kiss, where he’d realised he was in love with Dean, where they’d slept together for the first time, all those years ago. And it was where he’d lived with his mother, who’d been dead now for almost two years, who he missed with his whole heart and he loved unconditionally. It had been Evelyn that had gifted this place to Sam and Jess when she’d passed. 

After a few moments of nostalgia, Cas shook away the dull ache of hurt in his heart, and turned his head to press a kiss into his husband’s forehead. Dean stirred a little at the touch, smiling in his sleep, but he only woke when Cas shuffled him back upright. 

Dean seemed to take ages in the bathroom when they finally made it upstairs, and Cas half wondered if he’d fallen asleep while brushing his teeth, but he did eventually emerge, clad in just his boxers as he stumbled towards the bed and dived gracelessly inside. Castiel made quick work of his own bathroom time, and he fully expected his husband to be passed out by the time he returned, but when he climbed into the bed Dean shuffled magnetically toward him, burying his head against his chest without question. 

“I love you.” Dean said softly, and Castiel smiled as he returned the sentiment. 

 

*

 

His old bedroom was still pitch black when he opened his eyes again. Castiel grimaced, and rubbed the sleep from the corners of his eyes, wincing a little at the sound of Lily’s screams from the room next door. He turned his head, surprised to meet his husband’s wide awake, alert gaze. 

“She’s been crying for ages. I’m surprised you didn’t wake up before.” Dean said quietly, answering the question Castiel didn’t have to ask. Cas remained silent, unsure whether he was trying to get back to sleep or to wake himself up. They paused for a long while before Dean spoke again. “I’m sorry about the plane.” He whispered, feeling guilty. “I hate those pills. I feel like crap.” 

“A necessary evil.” Cas muttered in response, nuzzling his head into Dean’s neck. His husband hummed at the touch, happy that all was forgiven. From the master bedroom they could hear hushed voices, now that Lily had stopped crying, and it dawned on him just how thin the walls were. By the look on Dean’s face, he was having the same realisation, and he started to laugh. 

“How in hell were you surprised that your mom knew you were gay?” He chuckled. “We blew each other so many times in here and she probably heard everything we ever said.” 

Castiel turned a shade of beetroot red, and elbowed his husband in the ribs. “In retrospect it may have been obvious.” He muttered petulantly, but he was smiling anyway.  A dark arousal flashed through Dean’s gaze, and suddenly all Cas could think about was his husband’s cock. Dean’s hand  reached out hesitantly to his hip, and Cas took things a step further by capturing his lips against his own in a heated kiss. 

By the time Dean’s tongue had licked its way inside his mouth, Castiel’s hand was cupping his husband’s dick with a gentle squeeze. He wasted no time in pulling down his boxers and exposing him, with every intention of driving him absolutely crazy, but the wide eyed, almost fearful expression on Dean’s face when he squeezed his cock again had Castiel concerned, his hand coming to a stop. 

Dean’s eyes squeezed shut and his head shook irritably, as he forced a gulp of air into his lungs. He was being an idiot. Until the other night those memories hadn’t interfered with his sex life in years, but for that brief second then he’d relieved it again. He opened his eyes to meet his husband’s gaze, and tried to convey in their stare his apology. He tried instead to remember all of the times he’d had fantastic, consensual sex with the man next to him now, and he reached his fingers out to curl around his husband’s cock as encouragement to continue. 

With some reluctance, Cas started to move his hand again, but he kept his gaze fiercely on Dean’s in love and reassurance. He couldn’t truly understand, he would never be able to _completely_ get it, but he knew what Dean was relieving and what this turmoil must be bringing back to him. He just had to show him how different things were now, so the kiss that he left on his lips was slow and loving, and he pumped his cock without a rush. 

Soon, Dean started to melt into it, his own rhythm on Castiel slightly quicker in a plea for more speed, but none was forthcoming. He had to suppress a gasp when Cas twisted his hand a little at the tip, when his thumb rubbed into his slit and dragged the precome down his length. He mirrored Castiel’s actions, but his husband was, and always had been, much better at controlling himself, and before long Dean was panting as his release became imminent, while Castiel watched with lust blown pupils. 

With a grunt, Dean’s back arched as he came, momentarily losing his pace on Castiel’s cock as his come shot over Castiel’s hand and his stomach and he shivered without control. Cas was drooling at the sight, and as soon as Dean had come back down and quickened his rhythm again, he allowed himself to enjoy the sensation, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he followed suit. 

Only a few minutes passed before his eyes were rolling back in their sockets, his body pulsing with anticipation as the wave crashed over him. His senses burned with pleasure and his mouth hung open as he released over Dean’s body while his husband nibbled on his ear lobe. When he’d finished, he gasped the air in and grinned. 

After they’d come down and Cas had wiped them off with tissues, they became aware of Lily crying again. Castiel groaned inwardly, but when he looked at his husband he was surprised to see him smiling. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Dean said quietly, and Castiel looked at him with confusion. “That you want a baby waking up every twenty minutes?” 

The question took Castiel by surprise, because the subject was completely taboo for them. It wasn’t something they talked about, ever, even though Cas had decided a while back that actually, yes, he really did want that. Every time he’d brought it up in the past, Dean had become panicked or defensive, and Cas knew that his childhood wouldn’t have left him with the best headspace for bringing up a child of his own, but he had faith in him, even if Dean didn’t. 

He didn’t know how to answer the question, though, because he didn’t want to make it awkward. He knew Charlie would scold him for not being honest, but he couldn’t put that pressure on him, especially not now. Even if that look in Dean’s eyes and that small smile on his face was suggesting that maybe his mind was starting to change on the matter, with everything going on, Cas couldn’t risk scaring him off. He just hoped that his silence was enough of an answer. 

“It really sucks Cas.” Dean said suddenly, face serious. “It sucks so bad that Dad had this perfect family that wasn’t us. It’s like a punch in the face and it hurts so fucking much. But you know what? It means he chose to be like he was to me. He chose to be such an ass, even though he was obviously capable of being a good dad. He wasn’t to me, but he was a good dad to someone, Cas. So maybe I could be, too.” 

Castiel had to look away then, or he might have cried out of hope and happiness. He lifted his head instead, and pressed a kiss to Dean’s forehead. “You’d be a great father.” He said with confidence. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why but I'm having real mind blank issues with capitalising the chapter titles so sorry that they're all over the place, maybe someday soon I'll get to grips with it! maybe!! 
> 
> will update monday, and it'll give you what you've been waiting for... saying no more!


	9. Would You Take the Wheel, When I Lose Control?

Came to you with a broken faith

Gave me more than a hand to hold

Caught before I hit the ground

Tell me I'm safe, you've got me now

**Would you take the wheel**

**If I lose control?**

 

By the time they woke up next it was bright outside, the May air flooding in warmly through the open windows, but not quite so warm that they’d started using the air conditioning. Despite the temperature, Dean was still snuggled close to Castiel’s side as he opened his eyes, his arm still around his husband’s middle. He wouldn’t admit it, _ever_ , but he fucking loved cuddling. 

With a light groan at the sound of the baby crying again next door, Dean leaned up to check the time, and rolled his eyes when he realised it was barely gone 6am. Castiel turned his head, a light smile on his face at Dean’s expression, beaming harder when the irritation turned into a bright grin. Cas lifted a hand and ghosted his husband’s cheekbones with a gentle touch, and Dean purred at the contact. 

As they stared into each other’s eyes, though, Dean’s face gradually darkened with the realisation of the struggle he would be faced with today. Sensing his discomfort, Castiel leaned in and kissed him gently. 

“It’ll be fine.” He said reassuringly, although really he had no idea how this was going to go. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.” 

Dean wished he shared Castiel’s confidence, because his stomach was full of butterflies and his anxiety was reaching record highs, but he forced a smile onto his lips and nodded all the same. They had to get this over with. He just had no idea what to say to Sammy. 

A little while later, they found his brother and sister-in-law in the kitchen, where Jess was pleading with Lily to have _just one more spoon_ of her oatmeal to no avail. Her battle was made even harder when Lily caught sight of her two uncles and held her arms out to them instead, hitting away the spoon in the process. Jess shrugged, wiping a splash of oatmeal off of her shirt as she shook her head. Sam was trying not to laugh. 

“Sorry if she kept you up last night.” Sam apologised with a grin, and Dean wondered if this was finally his payback for playing his music so loud at night when they were kids. He watched as Castiel scooped the laughing little girl into his arms. “She was particularly irritable.” 

“We don’t mind.” Castiel cooed, planting kisses on the baby’s cheeks while she laughed. 

Dean felt like adding a _speak for yourself_ , but it wouldn’t have been the truth. He watched the way Sam looked at his daughter, and how Jess was staring at her with wonder in her eyes, and realised just how much they loved her. The feeling was so strong and so raw that he had to look away when he found it hurting. Hurting because he was never looked at like that by his father. And yet, the few memories he had of his mom were of her face, she always looked at him like that. Even Evelyn to some extent, Castiel’s mother had all but raised him too, and he knew that she loved him almost as much as she loved Cas. But his parents, true or not, were all dead now. 

He turned his gaze then to his husband, to the love and devotion within Castiel’s eyes. He was almost as taken with the little girl as Sam and Jess were. Dean could see how much he wanted to be a father, how ready he was to raise a baby of his own. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t want kids, far from it, in fact. Even if he was getting more jealous of Sam and Jess every time he saw them, he just had no faith in his own abilities, doubts left by his upbringing. And great, now he was hurting for a very different reason. 

Much to Jess’s relief, Cas was able to persuade Lily to eat the remainder of her oatmeal as he ate cereal of his own, and when they’d all finished, they relaxed back into the chairs around the circular oak table while Lily played with a doll on the floor. The pause in conversation grew awkward, and Dean knew this was his time to talk. He was aware of the curious glances Sam and Jess were shooting his way, knew that they were suspicious of their impromptu visit. He chanced a look at Castiel, and at his gentle nod he sighed. 

“I have to tell you something.” He blurted, and his hands came up to rub on his face, his elbows leaning heavily on the tabletop. He paused for a long moment while they waited patiently, with curious, almost anxious expressions. Dean glanced at Cas for support, and his husband nodded. 

“Start at the beginning.” Cas said quietly, his hand reaching out to take Dean’s. 

Dean shot him a look as if to say that he didn’t even know where the beginning was, but he sighed and came to the conclusion on his own. “A few weeks back I got a message from Lisa.” He began. “She sent me a picture of a baby, her baby, and she said he was ‘my family’”. He quoted. 

Both Sam and Jess were looking at him with intrigue and disbelief, because they had jumped to the obvious conclusion just as his own husband had. 

“I’m not the father.” Dean hastened to add, because he was a bit put out that they’d all think that of him. It was the only logical explanation though, he supposed, when they didn’t know the whole story. Occam’s razor, and all that. “I’m not the father, but if I don’t pay her off then she’ll tell everyone that I am.” 

Jess looked at him with a confused expression, as if trying to figure out why he thought this was such a big deal when it was so easily solved with a DNA test. As if neither of them or Naomi would have had that brainwave. But maybe he was just being irritable, because his heart was pounding now and he was hurting again. He had no idea how to carry on the story. 

“Go on, Dean.” Cas had to prompt, because he’d gone silent now for too long. He rubbed at his eyes again, trying to find the words to tell his brother about the family they didn’t know they had. Wondering how to break the bad news and reveal a lifetime of betrayal that was destroying him inside. Trying to figure out if he was going to survive breaking this news. Castiel squeezed his hand. 

“Dad had another family, Sammy.” Dean said finally, barely loud enough for the four of them to hear. He knew there were tears on his cheeks now, but he couldn’t bear to open his eyes and look up in case there were tears on Sam’s or Jess’s or Castiel’s. He didn’t want to see their pain or their pity or their sympathy, or even their anger. He just wanted to forget, just wanted all of it to be done. 

“He… what?” Sam managed after a very long pause. When Dean finally looked up to meet his shocked stare, he noticed how Jess was clutching at her husband’s hand in surprise and support. Dean squeezed Castiel’s fingers for the reminder that he was there. 

“I don’t know any details. I just know that we have another brother — Adam — and that they had a good life. He’s across state, but here in Kansas.” 

Sam sunk back in his chair, crossing an arm around his middle defensively as he slipped into a contemplative silence. Dean couldn't help but watch him, feeling once again like he’d failed as he saw the pain emanating from the brother he’d always tried to protect. Maybe he shouldn’t have told him. Maybe he should have kept it to himself and shouldered the burden like he always did. But it wouldn’t have been fair, and Castiel wouldn’t have let him do it alone. 

He must have been crying harder, because Cas let go of his hand and was suddenly right at his side, slipping an arm over his back and holding him close in support, pressing a kiss to his clothed shoulder. All Dean could do was watch Sam, watch the mix of emotions in his eyes that Dean knew only too well. Pain, betrayal, shock, anger, sadness. All of it washed through his brother’s expression over the next few, long minutes, but when Sam finally looked back up there was a determination in his gaze. 

“What’s our play?” He asked, voice steady and devoid of emotion. Castiel was impressed, and wondered if he _had_ been the best actor to have come out of this street. 

“We’ve come here because we’re going to meet him.” Cas said slowly, when Dean failed to respond. 

“Then I’m coming with you.” 

 

*

 

For someone that had always suffered with panic attacks and anxiety, Dean couldn’t remember the last time he felt so awful. It had been years since he was this low, since he’d had to remind himself to think of the good things in his life, since he’d felt so desperate and helpless. As he sat back in the leather seat while the Mercedes roared towards a destination he never wanted to reach, he could barely feel Castiel’s arm around his shoulder where his body was so numb. All he could feel was the painful throb of his heart, burning with each pulse of blood as if it were covered in thorns. 

He’d chanced a glance at Sammy a few minutes ago. His brother was sat in the seat behind the driver with Kevin (Jess had stayed at home with the baby), and he’d been staring aimlessly out of the window, lost in thought, his expression stoic and determined. Sam had always been strong, although Castiel insisted often that Dean must have been stronger to have survived his childhood and come out of it still fighting. 

Beside himself, Dean could feel the angry, quick pulse of his husband’s beating heart, could see the small beads of sweat on the back of his neck that confirmed his own nervous anxiety. As he looked at him, Castiel looked back, and even that brief moment of eye contact was enough to provide a glimmer of hope. 

From the seat in front of them, even Kevin looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. The security guard, who spent his nights in Kansas in a hotel near to Sam and Jess’s home, was breathing deeply, with narrowed eyes and fidgeting hands. Dean chewed his lip until it bled, and when he saw his red lips, Castiel offered up a tissue to dab the blood away, leaving a kiss on his cheek when he was done. 

The car pulled up some twenty minutes later on the outskirts of Emporia, at the address Naomi had tracked down, and Dean stared at Castiel when they had come to a stop, his gaze conveying everything — his worries, doubts, and fears. And for once, Castiel had no answers. He had no idea what to do, if there was any way to console or reassure his husband. So he said the only thing he could think of. 

“I’m with you.” He whispered. 

Dean’s anxious expression softened, and with it he nodded, climbing out of the car to join Sam and Kevin who were already standing on the sidewalk. He looked up at the house, the idyllic little cul-de-sac surrounded by fields and trees, a large lake just visible at the end of the street. The bungalow was clad with white wooden panels, the large driveway leading up to a double garage and on to a porch that shielded the blue front door. Dean found it difficult not to sneer, because the house was properly painted and well kept, a far cry from the peeling, decrepit home he’d had to call his own. But it was just his envy talking, which was silly really, when you consider where he lived now. 

The security guard remained as the other three men took slow, nervous steps towards the house in front of them. Castiel found himself between the two brothers as they arrived at the door, and upon seeing the reluctance in both of their eyes he inhaled deeply, and knocked himself. 

As the door opened, Castiel felt Dean tense next to him. His husband was almost shaking as he took a difficult, deep breath and stared at the man in front of them, whose confused expression was almost entertaining. If Dean had had any doubt left, he wouldn’t now, because Adam Milligan was the image of their father, and shared Sammy’s strong jaw. Dean’s teeth clamped back down on his lip as he tried not to break down. 

Adam stared at the three people in front of him in disbelief and confusion. None of them had thought to consider, in the turmoil of everything, how it might seem to someone so blissfully ignorant, when a Hollywood actor, his husband and his brother-in-law, turned up on their doorstep unannounced. Adam actually looked excited to see them. 

“Are you… are you Castiel Novak?” Their long lost brother asked hurriedly. 

Castiel, who had momentarily forgotten his own fame, was thrown by the statement, and it took him a long pause to gather himself. “Uh… well yeah. Are you Adam?” 

“What the… am I being punk’d?” He questioned enthusiastically. 

“No.” Sam interjected firmly. Adam focused then on his face, the only one he didn’t recognise, quite aware who Dean was, and his brow furrowed. “Can we come in, Adam?” 

When Adam had led them inside and offered them a seat on the comfortable cream couch, quickly tidying away a few things — because it wasn’t every day two celebrities walked into your front room — he sat nervously, keenly watching his three guests with an intrigued expression. Castiel shuffled awkwardly where he sat, wanting to talk but unsure whether it was his place to do so. Sam was feeling similarly, because he half expected Dean to run out and yet he didn’t feel like he knew enough of the story to tell it himself. Dean however had noticed the portrait hanging above the mantle. His eyes had locked with his father’s, ignoring his second blonde wife and their young son with them. 

Dean did zone back in though, when Castiel cleared his throat. “How old are you, Adam?” Dean heard his husband ask. 

“I’m 29.” Adam replied, and the silence grew immediately awkward as the fact sunk in, and all three men let the realisation dawn on them that Adam had been born while Mary was still alive, that he wasn’t even John’s youngest son.

“So… what can I do for you?” Adam asked eventually, his previous excitement replaced by nerves. 

As Castiel and Sam remained silent, Dean glanced at them both and sighed at their expressions. His heart hurt so fucking badly. He knew he ought to be the one to talk, he knew that, but he wished anyone else could do it for him. He had no idea where to begin. How do you tell someone their perfect little life was half a lie? 

“I… uh…” Dean struggled, his lungs half steel while his heart continued to race. His palms were clammy, but Castiel gripped his hand anyway in support. Dean stared at the floor as he continued. “We… you’re… you’re our brother.” He said finally. 

Adam gave him a look as if he’d gone mad, a disbelieving smile on his lips. He had, by now at least, figured out who Sam was. “You must be mistaken, I’m an only child.” 

“Yeah, about that. You’re not.” Sam said with conviction, and Dean was grateful for his presence and his confidence, the lawyer in him normally brilliant at providing eloquent arguments. 

“What —” Adam began.

“Your dad told you he worked away.” Castiel offered. “He lied.” 

By this point Adam was laughing, because he’d decided that the three other men were completely crazy. “He wouldn’t… why would he have lied?” 

“So that you didn’t find out about us.” Dean finished, his voice shaking with the sobs he was holding in. Cas felt it, and let go of his hand to snake his arm over his back instead. Dean sucked in a breath and leaned in to his husband’s touch. 

Adam frowned then, not out of sadness but out of irritation. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but it’s you that’s lying. I know who you are.” He said, eyes locked on Dean’s. “I know what your father did to you, and I’m telling you, you’ve got it wrong.” 

“We haven’t, Adam.” Sam insisted, taking some of the heat out of Adam’s angry glare. Dean looked away, feeling his own anger surging inside of him. He could understand how difficult it must be to hear, but this kid talked with all his father’s confidence, and it was obvious who had raised him. “We brought photos.” 

As Sam handed over the few images they had of them with John as children, Adam’s face fell, because it was obviously John Winchester in the pictures. “These could be photoshopped.” He said petulantly, letting the photos fall to the coffee table. 

“Why would I bother going to that trouble?” Dean suddenly blurted, getting angry despite his resolution to remain calm. “No offence, Adam, but who even are you? Why would we bother coming all this way here if we weren’t sure?” 

And ok, getting angry definitely wasn’t the best way to go about this, because Adam’s eyes narrowed and now he looked royally pissed. Oh god, he looked so much like their father it was terrifying. Especially now his eyes had darkened. Castiel’s hand pulled back on Dean’s shoulder, begging him to stand down, and at the touch he dropped the eye contact with his long lost brother. 

“Maybe you’re just trying to find someone to blame.” Adam hissed a moment later, his tone spiteful. “Your childhood was shit, so you feel like everyone else’s should have been too.” 

Dean flinched at the blow of his words, but it was Castiel’s turn to look angry. He sat upright in his seat, gaze threatening, eyes as thin as almonds. “Don’t you dare talk to him like that, you ungrateful asshole. He’s probably the only reason your childhood wasn’t shit.” 

Adam just rolled his eyes while Castiel calmed down. His grip on Dean’s shoulder relaxed as he found his voice again. “What do you think he died of?” 

“He died in a car accident.” Adam muttered irritably. 

“Bullshit.” Dean said under his breath. 

“Were you there?” Cas asked, nudging his husband in the ribs.  

“No. He was working away at the time. I hadn’t seen him for a few weeks before he passed.” 

“Because he didn’t die in a car accident.” Sam said calmly.

“I watched him drink himself to death for 24 years. I watched him die. I was at his bedside when he died. And do you know what? I was glad.”  Dean spat, half trying to stand and square up to his father’s son in front of him, his husband’s hand the only thing holding him back. 

Adam shook his head and stood up, done with the conversation and not willing to believe their story. “It’s not the same person. The sooner you get that into your thick head the better. My dad wouldn’t have done the things that your dad did to you. He just wouldn’t.” 

“Well someone fucking did.” Dean raged, scrambling out of his seat. His hands went to the hem of his t-shirt and dragged it gracelessly over his head. He pointed to his scars in turn. “Someone shot at me, here. Someone threw me through a glass shower screen, here. Someone hit me so hard I fell, here, here, and here. Someone made my life so shit I cut myself here, here, and here. Someone tried to drown me three times, someone put my head in a lit gas oven. Someone pimped me out to a fucking stranger when I was only 7, on a plane to god knows fucking where.” 

Dean’s gaze snapped from Adam to meet John’s eyes, still staring down at him from above the mantle. “ _Someone_ did those things to me, Adam, and I’m fucking telling you it was that man in that fucking photo.”

Before Castiel or Sam could even begin to process the things that had just come hurtling out of Dean’s mouth, Dean had turned and promptly stormed out of the room. Castiel wasted no time in rushing to his feet to follow his husband. He could hear Sam speaking again as he left the room. 

“He never hit me either, Adam, but we both know he was capable of it.”  

Castiel caught up with Dean outside the front door, and he only just reached him in time to wrap his arms around his middle as he buckled. He landed on his ass with a soft thud, Dean ending up between his legs as he sobbed against his chest. Cas shifted just enough to pull off his own jacket, and wrapped it around his husband’s bare back, the t-shirt having been forgotten inside. He buried his head in Dean’s hair as his husband cried, mulling over that disastrous first meeting and wondering how in hell Dean would pull through this. He could see Kevin watching them cautiously from the car, but the security guard could see that this had been a disaster, and knew instinctively not to interrupt. 

They sat like that for a few more minutes, after which time Sam strolled slowly out of the bungalow, and shot them a sad look as Dean pulled himself to his feet. It hadn’t processed in Dean’s head yet exactly what he’d said, so he didn’t notice the slightly cautious look that Sam gave him. Castiel did though, and when Sam looked down to meet his brother-in-law’s eyes he was horrified at the soft nod he was given, because he had never realised the extent of the trauma that his brother had been put through while they still shared a roof. 

 

*

 

There was no pause for contemplation when they poured back into Sam and Jess’s house. As soon as he crossed the threshold, Dean tore upstairs away from the other three, the door to Castiel’s old bedroom slamming behind him as he escaped them. 

Castiel rubbed his eyes with his fingers as he inhaled slowly. He chewed down on his lip as his eyes watched the staircase, almost as if he was hoping to see Dean coming back down. But they all knew he wouldn’t. Before he could make a start to go after him, though, Jess took hold of his shoulder, the look in her eyes one of understanding. 

“Let me talk to him.” She said softly, and she didn’t give Castiel a chance to protest, handing Lily over to Sam as she turned and took the stairs confidently.  

When she entered the bedroom, it was to the sight of Dean under the comforter with tears on his cheeks. He didn’t even look up when she shut the door gently behind her, and it was only when she sat next to him and he turned, expecting to see his husband, that his expression changed to one of surprise. 

“Thought you were Cas.” He sniffed, hurrying to wipe away his tears. 

Jess shook her head with a light smile, and took hold of his hand, squeezing in support. “I thought you might want to talk to someone that wasn’t him. I know why you waited so long to tell him, I know you just want to protect him.” 

Dean sighed, and pushed back so he was sitting a bit more upright, leaning heavily against the headboard. She wasn’t wrong. 

“You always have done, haven’t you?” Jess went on, and Dean was blushing now. “I know where you went after your father’s wake, Dean.” The blonde said, taking Dean by surprise. He hadn’t ever told anyone, not even his therapist, what he’d done that day in his mixed up state of mind. He hadn’t ever confessed, even to Castiel, that he’d spent the next 24 hours driving all the way to LA, still wearing the suit he’d been dressed in for the funeral, with every intention of begging forgiveness from the man he’d needed so much. It had only been when he’d crossed the state border that he’d started to doubt himself and his poorly thought out plan. He’d had to check into a motel, too tired to carry on and definitely too tired for the conversation he’d intended to have, and by the time he’d woken up the following morning his courage had dissipated, and he’d fled home. 

It wasn’t something he'd ever talked about, but he often regretted not following through with that snap decision. He and Castiel would be four years ahead of where they were now if he had. And yet, his mindset back then had been dark, his mood at its worst. Fate had other ideas, he supposed. Perhaps it was better that he’d waited. 

“I’ve always loved him.” He told her. He didn’t want to talk about how things might have been. But he had decided that talking was better, and right now he needed to talk. “I’m not… I’m not really sad.” He said quietly, and he watched as Jess tilted her head in confusion and surprise. “I feel angry.” 

“You have every right to be angry.” Jess agreed, but she was unsure where he was going with this. 

“I’m angry with him, and I’m angry with myself.” Dean elaborated. “I’m pissed off that he still has that effect on me, that he can still hurt me, still drag me into that terrible place.” 

“Dean, look how far you’ve come.” Jess smiled, connecting their eyes. “Don’t you remember what you were like before? Before Cas, you wouldn’t have got through this. You might have had a bad few weeks, but you’re still fighting.” 

“Yeah.” Dean nodded gently. “I am, and I know. I’m glad it’s over, I’m glad it’s done, but he was just such an ass. He was so much like Dad, Jess.” 

“That bad?” 

“Almost.” 

“I never told you this.” Jess said quietly, and Dean eyed her curiously. He wondered how much else she hadn’t told him in the course of their lives. She seemed to know Dean almost as well as he knew himself. “It took me longer than it should have to realise what had been done to you. I mean, I knew your dad was an asshole. I knew from what Sam said, but it was the way you were back then, almost suicidal most days. I figured it out long before I first glimpsed your scars, but I still wish I’d tried to talk to you when we were still living together.” 

“You’d have only made me run, Jess.” Dean admitted, smiling sadly at his sister-in-law. The blonde woman smiled back, and leant into the hug he offered her. 

“I want you to know that you can always talk to me.” She whispered, squeezing her arms around him. Dean nodded, smiling against her shoulder. He’d started talking before the door opened, and he glanced up, meeting the wary, hesitant eyes of his very nervous looking husband. 

“I’m trying to see this as a good thing.” He said, and he kept Castiel’s gaze as he continued. “It means Dad could be good when he wanted to. It means that the way he was with me and Sam was a choice. And I’d never choose to be like that.” 

Dean watched as tears spilled from his husband’s eyes, and as Jess released him he kept his arms open, beaming wildly as Castiel stumbled forward to fall into them instead. The nurse could always sense when they needed time alone. He pressed his lips to Castiel’s temple, shooting a grateful look at his sister-in-law as she exited the room, and shut the door behind them. 

“I love you.” Cas was almost sobbing, his tears full of relief and sympathy. 

“I love you too baby. I’m sorry for scaring you.” Dean sung in a hushed tone. Castiel pulled back out of the hug to meet his eyes, smiling with hope and ease. “I’m not upset, Cas. I mean, I am a bit, but it’s ok. I’m mainly angry.” 

Castiel’s gaze softened in support, but he stayed quiet. 

“I’m angry that Dad chose to do that to us, and I’m angry that I still let him hurt me, that I still let it affect me and you. I should never have let that happen. I won’t let him come between us ever again.” Dean continued, his voice rising slightly as he let himself feel his anger. “Do you know what it has made me realise, though? It’s taken me long enough to figure it out. I’m nothing like him. I’m not. I couldn’t do it, couldn’t leave two small boys to fend for themselves, use them as punchbags, somewhere to take my anger out. And I couldn’t do that while I play house somewhere else.” 

Dean paused to take a breath, trying to get his emotions in check. He’d made his mind up now, his determination and strength had won out over his sadness and trauma, and with Castiel’s support he could get through anything. 

“Cas, Castiel. You’ve been right the whole damn time. I’m not like Adam and I’m not like him. I’m not even his son, not really. I’m your mother’s son as much as you are. I just need to forget about him now.” 

Castiel couldn’t remember ever feeling more proud of his husband, and now he was crying for a whole new reason. He nodded, beaming, but he couldn’t find any words to speak. 

“I’m not his son, Cas, and I’m not like him. And that’s all that’s been holding me back. So why don’t we have a baby?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically the whole reason you've got a sequel, it came to me and started this whole thing off.
> 
> Just a reminder, I keep going on about it but don't forget those seat belts. I'm not one for plain sailing, if you haven't already figured that out!


	10. And All the Lights That Light the Way Are Blinding

And all the roads that lead you there are winding,  
 ****

**And all the lights that light the way are blinding.**

There are many things that I,

Would like to say to you but I don't know how.

 

The pause went on for way longer than he thought it should, and Dean was suddenly panicking, wondering if he’d been reading his husband entirely wrong. Castiel was just staring at him, mouth hanging slightly open, drying tears on his cheeks and the rims of his eyes. His heart started to pound inside his ribcage, each beat more painful than the last as the moment grew tense, for him at least. Castiel continued just to look at him in shock, and Dean was moments away from taking it all back when his husband suddenly spoke. 

“What did you just say?” Cas asked, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes now, and it was just enough to feed Dean’s courage and allow his mouth to open, if not to speak eloquently. 

“I… if you wanted… I just thought…” 

“Dean, are you serious?” Castiel looked determined and steady, his acting talent being utilised as he kept his emotions in check. 

“Yeah, I’m serious.” Dean all but whispered. 

“You want a baby?” Cas was definitely struggling to get his head around this sudden change in developments. 

“Yeah, Cas, I do.” 

The smile that broke through his husband’s stern, serious expression made all of the pain he’d felt in the last few weeks worth it. Castiel beamed from ear to ear, more tears welling in his eyes as he finally let himself believe that this was happening. Dean couldn’t help but return the grin, because the pure happiness in Castiel’s eyes was so fucking beautiful. When Cas pressed forward to kiss him his heart leapt, and his hands found his husband’s back automatically. Cas pressed against him with enthusiasm, laughing between kisses every time he had to take a breath. He pulled, and Dean gladly let himself be dragged into his husband’s lap. 

Ecstatic didn’t even cut it. Castiel couldn’t remember feeling so elated since their wedding day. His heart swelled as Dean kissed him confidently back, and the realisation hit him hard, but it was a relief to feel. Dean was better. Maybe not completely, but his husband had healed, his old wounds closed. The man that couldn’t bear the thought of even his brother becoming a father eighteen months ago was now ready to take that step himself, for them both. The thought surprised him, but Cas realised that he’d never expected this day to happen, that he’d never allowed himself to hope and believe that Dean would ever reach this point. He’d settled for what they had, which was more than enough for him, but it was the best gift in the world to be allowed even more. 

A low groan escaped Dean’s lips, and Cas hadn’t even realised his hand was pressed into his husband’s lap until he heard it. He was getting carried away, caught up in the love and lust, but Dean wasn’t complaining. His hands slipped around to Dean’s ass cheeks, and with a gentle tug he lifted. Dean got the memo quickly, and with a quick fumble at the button on his jeans he shrugged them down with his boxers, letting his dick bob free. 

Cas licked his lips as he took the length in his palm and gave a tantalising squeeze. Dean struggled for breath when his husband did it again, and soon Cas had lowered him back on the bed, leaning over him, dominating. His boxers and jeans were pulled the rest of the way off before Castiel’s hand returned to him, a finger trailing, featherlight, over his balls and making him shiver, his sensitive skin erupting in gooseflesh. 

Once again, Dean was rendered powerless by his husband’s control. He surrendered to it, spreading his legs wide as permission and a plea, but Cas wasn’t ready to take him yet. Teasing fingers circled his upper thigh, dipping inside with a fleeting touch. Dean was gasping for air he could hardly breathe in, but he didn’t mind this tightness of his lungs. His hands grabbed out, fingers sinking into Castiel’s shoulders, and when the blue eyed man looked up his irises were almost completely black with his blown pupils. Dean’s cock twitched at the sight, and his husband smirked at him, still fully clothed. 

“Cas, you realise we can’t _make_ a baby, right?” Dean said with a laugh. 

“That won’t stop me from trying.” Castiel replied, his voice thick and low and sending a shiver down Dean’s spine. 

The t-shirt was made quick work of, and suddenly Dean was naked. Castiel leant over him, pressed his lips against his neck to softly nibble and suck while he moaned, and Dean rutted up against him, the harsh denim of his husband’s jeans around his swollen cock a relief against his own aching erection. 

But this situation was entirely under Castiel’s control, like usual. The actor let out a deep chuckle at his husband’s neediness, and sank back to his knees, his hands stroking the length of the mechanic’s chest, his thumbs coming to a rest at his hipbones. Dean just panted while Castiel looked him up and down, while the Hollywood star counted his lucky stars and drooled at Dean’s toned chest and stomach, the six pack that was more obvious in times where he’d been drinking less beer. 

Castiel dived back down and licked a line from collarbone to hip while Dean shivered underneath him. He let his tongue slip back into his mouth to wet it again before he continued, and trailed it back to the base of his husband’s cock, swirling around it with an angle of his head. He licked up the length next, and Dean called out his name, sucking a sharp inhale when the tongue pressed into the slit. 

But Cas wasn’t ready yet, even if Dean was begging now. He had aspirations for this, and he was going to show him just how much he meant to him. The treacherous tongue carried on south, lapping out at Dean’s balls before dropping down and circling his hole. Castiel pressed it in, adding a finger and eventually two as he worked and stretched Dean open. His own need and desire was becoming overwhelming, and he was having to fight strongly to resist the urge to rut against Dean’s leg for the pressure. 

“Oh holy fuck, Castiel please, please god Cas, please.”  Dean was pleading, his hands gripping into the bed sheet as his fingers flexed. He tried to put a hand on his cock to relieve some of the ache, but Cas swatted it away, and just looked up at him with those dark, lustful eyes from behind his cock, while he pounded into him with his tongue. 

Every time Castiel’s fingers hit that spot Dean was sure he’d burst. His eyes were swimming with stars, his tight chest pounding with pent up need and desire. He wanted to come so badly, but he knew from experience that his orgasm was a long way off — if that dark look in his husband’s eyes was anything to go by. So as Castiel kept rimming and fingering him he begged a little harder, hoping to change his mind. 

His efforts were fruitless though, and another good ten minutes passed before Castiel decided he was stretched enough, his hole pulsing and desperate to be filled. Cas lifted suddenly back, dragging his own pants and boxers down hastily and off over his ankles, his t-shirt over his head. He shuffled forwards on his knees, and let his cock hang expectantly by Dean’s lips. Dean lifted his head obediently and his tongue lapped out, lips engulfing the head and sucking hard. 

Castiel pressed in harder, Dean fighting to suppress his gag reflex as his mouth was fucked into, Cas’s cock hitting the back of his throat, the taste salty and bitter. 

After a few minutes his husband pulled out, and as he jumped his knees back Dean sucked in a breath in preparation. Castiel lined up, and pushed quickly inside, bottoming out while Dean wailed. Cas pulled all the way out and lifted Dean’s legs to improve the angle, his husband assisting by grabbing his knees back and pulling his ass into the air. Cas pounded back inside, smashing right into Dean’s prostate, his tight walls squeezing around his length and making him splutter while his husband cried out. 

“Fucking faster.” Dean demanded, and Castiel obliged happily, setting an incredible pace and fucking into his husband without reserve. 

With one hand on the headboard Cas held himself up as he smashed inside repeatedly, and his other hand reached out and gripped the base of his husband’s cock, squeezing tightly to try and help him to last longer. Dean’s lips were dripping with unintelligible curse words, but as soon as Castiel felt his own orgasm nearing, that coil tight in his belly ready to pop, his hand started to move, and he jerked off his husband in time with his own quick thrusts. 

Dean had pressed a pillow to his mouth to shut himself up, but Cas could still hear him screaming through it as his back arched up and that pleasure overcame him. His rock hard cock pulsed as he exploded, his come flooding over Castiel’s hand and shooting over the chest that was rocking into him. Cas grunted at the sight as he gave up and surrendered to his own finish, riding out the wave inside his husband as he painted him inside. 

It had been a little while since he’d fucked so fast, and the energetic burst left him drained. Castiel collapsed down onto his husband’s waiting chest while Dean’s legs wrapped around his ass. They were both covered in sweat, gasping in their breath as they lay in silence. After a few minutes of recovery, Dean carded his hands into the dark lengths of Castiel’s messed up sex hair, and at the touch Cas looked up to meet his husband’s eyes, eyes full of love and stability, hope and happiness. 

“Dean, are you _sure_?” Castiel asked quietly, because he had to know one way or the other. He didn’t want to get excited about this if it was a snap decision. 

“I’ve wanted it for a long time, Cas. I just didn’t have faith in myself.” Dean breathed. “I want a family, I do. I can’t say I won’t have my moments but… as long as you’re with me, we’ll get through it.” 

Castiel’s lips broke out in another bright grin. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Particularly considering how he’d imagined this day would turn out. Dean had surprised him beyond all expectation. “I’m so proud of you, and yeah, I want it too.” Cas admitted. “But I think we should wait a little while, a month or two, just to give you time to process all this before we start doing anything about it. Just in case you need to change your mind.” 

Dean sighed, because he knew his husband was right but he was impulsive and impatient and he'd said he wanted it, so he wanted it now. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” 

“We need to talk about it properly, the when and how, but maybe here isn’t the best place?” Cas suggested. Even though his words were serious, he couldn’t stop smiling. “I’d prefer if no one knew we were talking about it. For a while at least. And I mean no one, not Sam or Jess or Charlie, just until we’ve decided matters ourselves.” 

“Yeah, agreed. I don't want anyone to know yet either.” Dean smiled, and Cas leaned up to kiss his lips. He started thinking about the thin walls and how Sam and Jess were only downstairs (and probably traumatised from the not-so-subtle sex they’d just had). “We’ll talk about it more when we get home.” 

 

*

 

“Feeling better?” Sam asked with a slightly upturned nose as Dean and Castiel made their way back downstairs. Jess looked up at the celebrity pair with a smile. Castiel at least had the decency to flush a bright red, but Dean smirked, his eyebrows twitching suggestively. 

“ _Much_ better.” He said with a grin, earning an elbow in the ribs from his husband. Dean laughed and let Cas snake an arm around his back. His face turned slowly more serious. “Sammy, are you ok?”

Sam looked almost taken aback by his brother’s concern, Dean had already surprised him with how quickly he’d bounced back this afternoon. The tall man smiled, because his brother really had healed. But the question remained, was he ok? He wasn’t happy about it, that was for sure, but he didn’t feel particularly sad either. He’d always hated his dad so much that nothing he’d done had ever really hurt him. Growing up and seeing how badly he’d affected Dean had taught Sam not to get close or let John in. He’d spent his life feeling like John was just this distant nightmare. So yeah, he was pissed, but it was mainly for his brother’s sake than his own. He was reeling a little bit from Dean’s admissions too, because it was hurting to know how much he’d missed in his youth, how much his brother had endured on his behalf. No wonder Dean had been so messed up. Really, it was a miracle he was half as normal as he was. He had Castiel to thank for that, he supposed. 

“I am, Dean, I’m ok, I’m just pissed.” Sam said steadily, gauging his brother’s reaction. “Are you?” 

Dean paused before he smiled. “Yeah.” He breathed, and Castiel clutched at his waist. 

Sam beamed for a moment, but then he sucked in a breath and both men knew he had something else to add. “You should know this one last thing.” He said quietly, and the expressions of his brother and brother-in-law darkened. “After you’d walked out… I congratulated him about the baby, and, well, he knew nothing about it. Either he doesn’t know, Dean, or he’s not the father after all.” 

With an expression of disbelief, Dean sucked in an irritable breath. How had he not seen that coming? He was such an idiot to take Lisa on face value. The arrogant bitch had known exactly how he’d react, had known his new knowledge would fuck his mind up enough that he wouldn’t even question it. And she’d have gone through with it, too. She’d have told everyone just to make him hurt more. He was so gullible, and she was so vile. Dean could feel Castiel’s hand gripping into his side, could feel the protective anger radiating in waves off of his husband, but she wasn’t worth their pain, didn’t deserve their time, thought or effort. 

“Forget her.” Dean commanded, speaking both to himself and to his family. “She isn’t worth it.” 

“No, she’s not.” Jess smiled up, proud of her brother-in-law. 

“She’s not, but if I ever see her again so help me god, she won’t know what’s coming for her.” Castiel muttered the threat, and Dean knew better than to question him. 

 

*

 

By the time they’d finally arrived home the following evening the moon was high and the sky was dark. Dean had looked up at the stars out of the panoramic roof of the car they’d been collected in, trying to remind himself of how small and insignificant these matters really were in relation to the bigger picture. It was humbling, really. He thought about the things Castiel had said a month before, about the vastness of the universe, and his worries and doubts seemed suddenly silly and self-centred. 

He squeezed on his husband’s hand, but when he glanced over Castiel’s head was resting against the glass, vibrating with the low hum of the engine as he slept. Dean smiled, because it was in times like these that he was the most in love. It wasn’t that he didn’t love who Castiel had become at all, in fact he was so proud of the man it hurt. But nostalgia made his heart swell, and it was in moments such as this where the man he looked at was no different from the boy he’d fallen for across the street, where Castiel Novak could be just a name, but his Cas, the boy who’d saved him, was right here with him.  

Dean felt stupidly fuzzy inside as he watched his husband, and resisted an urge to tuck a lone strand of dark hair behind Castiel’s ear. He didn’t want to wake him up because the sight was too fucking perfect. But they were almost there now anyway, having slowly careened along the driveway and slowed outside the front door, and as it came to a stop Castiel stirred, half-awake, and Dean took his opportunity to brush his hair back while his husband watched him with sleepy eyes. 

“We’re home.” Dean whispered, and Cas wrinkled his eyes in his tiredness.

They made their way slowly up to bed. Castiel took the bathroom first, and when Dean finally emerged from it after his turn, his husband was already tucked up in the sheets and sleeping soundly. He had apologised, but Dean wished he had a better way of making it up to Cas, how he’d been in the last few weeks. He knew how deeply he was loved and cared for and he hadn’t meant to let his behaviour affect anything between them. No wonder his poor husband was exhausted. 

But he was excited now about their future, and in a strange kind of way he was glad that all this had happened, because it had proved to him how far he’d come. And sure, he’d still have his moments and he’d always have issues, but he was definitely a different person to the one Cas had met again at Sammy’s wedding. Yeah, it hurt that John had betrayed them all, and betrayed his mom too, but it just served to remind him how differently he’d turned out to his father. He could _never_ be that person, and it might have taken him long enough to realise it but he believed it now, and for that he was glad. 

Dean crawled into bed and pressed his body up against Castiel’s back. His beautiful half-naked husband’s warm skin pushed up against his own as he stirred and Dean hummed happily as he flipped the switch for the lights. 

This was what perfection felt like.


	11. Another Day, Another Life

**Another day, another life,**   
****

Passes by just like mine,

It’s not complicated.

 

Finding time to talk had been a harder challenge than either of them could have expected. 

The first night after they’d returned home, Castiel’s shoot had overrun by two hours, and then the meeting he’d had to cancel for Friday, which had been rescheduled for this evening, took longer than he’d anticipated too, so once again by the time he’d returned home he was exhausted, and he’d found Dean in bed, already half asleep himself. They’d apologised to each other as they’d tangled their limbs together, and before either knew it their alarms were calling out, signalling the start of a new day. 

The second day had been similar, but it was Dean’s evening that hadn’t gone to plan. He’d discovered with embarrassment (but a lot of gratitude), that the Red Nose Day team had kept his slot open, that Naomi had explained to them he’d had a setback and informed them not that he’d quit, as he’d told her to say, but that he just needed time out. Her faith in him was astounding, considering how he'd been acting. He’d arrived back at the office to supportive smiles, but he wished people would forget it and act normal, because he didn’t want to play a victim. He was grateful really though for their understanding — he hadn’t wanted to let anyone down — but having to admit that he’d slipped up was a challenge in itself. 

So he’d spent most of that day and the entirety of the evening catching up and cramming as much work in as he could, thankful that they hadn’t allowed him to get too behind and some of the work he’d been doing prior to all this had been taken on by other team members in his absence. He finally filmed that last promo, too, and he kept his face straight and his heart steady while he did, which was as much a surprise to him as to anyone else that knew him, Naomi included. He stayed far later than he would normally have done, but there were only a few days left to go now, so it really couldn’t wait. 

By the time he’d arrived home, again it was late, and although Cas was sat up waiting for him with a smile on his face, by the time he’d fallen into his arms he was yawning, and his husband took him up to bed and stroked through his hair until he was once again safely asleep.  

The pattern carried on for the next few days, and they’d had hardly a moment to themselves, no time at all to talk about their future. It was starting to drive Dean crazy, and it was all he could think about no matter where he was. He thought his husband might be feeling similarly, because every time they caught each other’s eyes there was this unspoken desperation in their gaze, and all Dean wanted to do was take him off into a private room, tell him he loved him and ask him how soon they could start their family. 

The evening before Red Nose Day, after they’d spent the entire day together at the rehearsal, Dean thought he might finally get a chance to talk to his husband. They’d clutched each other’s hands as they’d walked into their home, but luck still wasn’t on their side, as they were informed that Charlie was waiting for them in the living room. 

The red haired girl was quite at home as she waited on their couch, legs lounging across the cushions with a glass of something fizzy to hand. Dean concluded it was champagne as he leant in to welcome her with a hug. He was happy to see her even if he was silently cursing her poor timing. 

“You seem chirpier.” She commented with a raised eyebrow as she let him go, and Dean shot her a coy smile as he took a seat on the opposite couch while Castiel greeted her too. He’d yet to explain to her what had happened over the last few weeks. 

“Yeah…” He began, feeling a little uncomfortable, but not as badly as he thought he would have. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a jerk.” He paused and watched her eyebrows rise. She was his best friend, and he had to tell her the truth. “Ok, I’m sorry that I _have_ been a jerk. I… I found out that my dad had another family, Charlie.” 

Her expression softened immediately and she sat forward in her chair. “Oh god Dean, I… that sucks. Are you ok?” 

“I… yeah. I am now.” He said with a slow exhale. Castiel gripped his hand firmly, and when their eyes met his were full of pride and love. 

“We went to Kansas last weekend to meet his other brother.” Castiel took over the explaining, for which Dean was grateful. “His name is Adam, and he was a dick.” 

“I’m sorry.” Charlie was unusually quiet. “I can’t imagine how hard—” 

“It’s fine Charlie.” Dean interjected. He didn’t need to dwell on it any more. “It’s a good thing really. John was good to them, so it means that it was a choice to be how he was for me and Sam, and I’d never choose to be like that.” 

Charlie looked surprised, and shot Castiel a slightly confused look as if she wasn’t expecting anything quite so mature to come out of Dean’s mouth. Cas just gave her a smile and a small shrug to show he was just as surprised as she was at how well he was handling it. It was suspicious really, he was doing almost too well. The cynical half of him expected Dean to break at any given moment, but deep down he believed he’d healed. Tomorrow’s fundraiser would be the test of that, he supposed. Dean was going to be telling his story live on air. 

“You really are better, aren’t you?” Charlie beamed, and it was Dean’s turn to shrug, although he was blushing at the intensity of the love he had for these two people. 

For the rest of the night they sat and talked, about anything and everything, and laughed and joked and poked fun at each other as if it was all they were put on the planet to do. Castiel couldn’t remember the time he last felt so happy, and although his husband had been steadily improving for a long time he’d never known him to be so complete. 

 

* 

 

It was definitely Castiel’s fame that had landed them this slot, smack bang in the prime time viewing hours of 9-10pm, and here they were presenting the show together. It was so fucking surreal, considering only three years ago he’d been living in that tiny one bedroomed apartment in Kansas with the cheap carpet and the bored magnolia walls, that now here he was, somehow talking confidently (more or less) to the whole of the country live on TV, with his Hollywood actor husband at his side. 

What was his life? He’d definitely got lucky when Cas had decided to go to Sam and Jess’s wedding.

With that thought in his mind he smiled, and his attention turned back to the autocue as the clip playing Mena Suvari’s Ninja Warrior run came to an end. He felt a bit jealous, actually, he’d love to have a go at that course. His mouth spoke automatically as his mind read the autocue words back, he could hear his voice talking about how great the night had been so far and how much good the money would do. 

It had been lovely though, working with Cas at his side. He’d really enjoyed presenting with him, and the audience seemed to love them too — they’d cooed and smiled every time he’d put an arm around him or vice versa. Here on stage, Dean loved taking the piss out of his husband, teasing and joking and winding him up. Cas didn’t seem to mind and the reception they got had been fantastic, he really felt like everyone was behind them. Maybe this life _was_ meant for him, after all. 

Castiel took over then when prompted, and he took Dean’s hand and ushered him a step back when he went to announce the current total.

“So far tonight your generosity has been outstanding.” His husband said. “And the total is just over an amazing twenty five million dollars!” 

The audience were clapping and cheering as they turned back to face them, and Castiel was beaming. The autocue was flashing his name up now, and Dean kept his mouth shut as his husband shot him a supportive glance. They were most worried about this part of the night. He just had to hold it together. His story wasn’t scripted, because he’d tried to write it down a hundred times but he’d never made it sound real, so when Castiel had told him to improvise it on the night, and given him a few pointers, he’d prayed it was the right move. 

“So I’m sure most of you will know why Dean is here and why he cares so much about this cause.” Castiel said, and his voice was steady but Dean could hear his nerves under the surface. “But to remind you why it’s so important to help children all over the world, please welcome my amazing husband to the stage, Dean Winchester-Novak, everyone.” 

Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand before he dropped it, and he made his way to the centre of the main stage to more applause. He paused a moment until they fell silent, and sucked in a breath as he worked out where to begin. 

“I…uh… hm.” He stuttered, shuffling his feet, and he drew a breath in before he looked up again. Having those few beers before coming on had been the best idea he’d ever had. “I’ve been trying to work out what to say for a long time.” He admitted. “I’ve written it all down so many times but it didn’t seem right, because what happened to me wasn’t black and white, it was grey and confusing and it went on for so many years that there are things I’m still not sure were real.” 

The audience were quiet, and he knew he had them captured. “My mom died when I was only four, and my brother was still just a baby. We were left with my dad, who relied too much on alcohol and eventually drank himself to death.” 

“Over the course of my childhood he’d beat me on a regular basis, he’d threaten me, he’d hurt me. He did other things too, things you don’t want to know about.” The faces he was looking at had turned sympathetic. “But he didn’t care about me, me or my brother. All he cared about was where he was getting his next drink from. Whether that meant he had to steal my money or beat up some guy to get it, that was all that was important to him.” 

“It wasn’t the pain of the abuse that hurt me. It wasn’t the physical injuries that stopped me from confessing to anyone for 25 years. And even though I hate the sight of them it wasn’t the scars. He made me feel isolated, weak, weird. He used words like pathetic, worthless, unlovable, and he said them so often that I believed it.” Tears were welling in his eyes now, and he lifted a hand to swat away the rogue one that had just dripped onto his cheek, his other rubbing his stomach, clutching at the fabric covering his scars. 

“No one should have to feel like that, particularly a child who knows no different.” Dean took in a deep breath and held steady. He glanced to the edge of the stage, and he could see his husband was desperate to go to him. He’d have liked a hug but he had to show him as well as the rest of the world how strong he was now. “I only got through it because of Castiel.” 

“Cas was my best friend from the moment we met, and he kept me sane and kept me fighting, because I knew that while he was around I had a chance at something normal. Even if my dad hated it, he couldn’t stop me from seeing him.” Dean went on, his eyes locked with his husband’s. He cracked a broad smile, and he could see Castiel’s raw emotion from here. “He still keeps me sane, and he still keeps me fighting.” 

Dean took a deep breath, because he hadn’t planned to do this but it seemed like the moment had written itself in naturally, so he was going to go with it and hope it panned out. “I nearly lost myself again a few weeks ago.” He admitted, his voice soft but echoing round the room with the microphone. “I found out that my dad had another family, that he had a son who’s older than my brother but younger than me. That he lied to me for my whole life and hid away a family he cared about and kept in a nice house and treated well.” 

Whispers erupted through the room at the new reveal. “But it doesn’t matter, because he’s gone and he’ll only hurt me now if I let him.” Dean breathed. “What matters is that there are other children out there with scars like mine, kids that are still trapped in horrible existences. And maybe they’re not being abused, maybe their scars are emotional rather than physical, maybe they’re living in poverty or they’re young carers or they have disabilities that mean their life is burdened.” 

“What matters is that people like us can help them. What matters is finding some way to tell these kids that they’re as normal as I was, that they just need someone to believe in them or give them a few hours break or get them out of their abusive homes. What _matters_ is saving them.” 

Dean had to swallow after his speech, because his tears had returned and with it bile had risen in the back of his throat. He sucked in a ragged breath and clutched his arms across his scars automatically, feeling vulnerable and shaking a little with the adrenaline. As the audience erupted in cheers, Castiel came hurrying to his side and threw his arms around him. Dean clutched at him gladly, and let his husband hold him close for longer than he usually would have considering they were still on stage. 

Cas beamed when he eventually pulled back, blinking back tears of pride. He couldn’t resist it, and pressed a kiss onto his husband’s lips which Dean returned gladly. This heralded the end of their segment, timed on purpose to give Dean a short break he’d been sure to need, and so Cas tugged on his hand and led him off the stage and back to their shared dressing room. 

“You’re just unreal.” Cas smiled as soon as they were alone, and his hand came up to cup Dean’s cheek. “The things you said up there were just amazing. And I’m so proud of you. I never thought you’d tell them about Adam.” 

Dean gave a sad smile. “You were right, it was going to come out eventually.” He sighed. “I just thought I’d get it over with.” 

“I love you more than ever.” Castiel said, and he leaned in to kiss his husband’s lips. Dean pressed happily back, and as Cas shuffled closer he let his mouth fall open and invited his husband’s tongue inside, licking around him like it was the first time. It had been a week since they’d had time alone, and Dean’s cock wasn’t happy about it. He squirmed as he felt the blood rush into it, and when his husband ground his hips forward he groaned. 

“How long do we have?” He rushed the whispered question. If they didn’t have long enough for him to be fucked senseless then he had to call it quits, because he was _not_ walking back onto that stage with a boner. 

“Ten minutes.” Castiel growled against his ear, and he nipped at the lobe as payment for his mouth being left unoccupied. “Long enough.” Castiel commanded. 

At the tone of his voice Dean moaned, and he almost thought he could come just from the sound. Cas wasted no time in dropping his hand down to his husband’s crotch and squeezing the growing bulge in his pants. Dean’s eyes rolled back in his head and he gasped out at the touch, pushing against Castiel’s hand. He dragged his suit jacket off and started to unbutton his shirt while his husband cupped his dick and kissed his lips. 

He shrugged when Castiel pulled off to shoot him a questioning glance, as Dean’s hands pushed Cas’s jacket off his shoulders. “I know we’re in a bit of a rush here but we can’t afford to get come on anything.” He explained with a grin. 

Cas snorted a laugh as he worked Dean’s pants down to his ankles and squeezed his now fully hard and aching cock through the fabric of his boxers, pushing his husband back against the wall and trapping him firmly there. His hand wasted none of their precious time as it pulled the briefs out of the way, and he lifted it only to quickly suck on his own finger as he dived it back down and worked it between Dean’s legs. 

As the finger pushed in, Dean suppressed a moan, unsure of how thick these walls were and quite aware that they were pretty far from alone in this building. He spread his legs and Cas lifted him up, pinning him back against the wall with a surprising strength. Another finger entered him and Dean chewed his lip when it hit his prostate. His cock was leaking already, standing needy between them, and when Cas looked down Dean could see how glad he was that his shirt was already off. 

A third finger joined the other two, and Dean was quite aware that he wasn’t going to last. They’d have time for a proper clean up too at this rate. He hadn’t realised how worked up he’d got in their busy week without sex, but Castiel had always been able to do this to him. He breathed as Cas shuffled his own pants down and lined the heavy head of his own cock up with Dean’s hole. He watched as his husband spat in his hand and slicked up his dick, before slowly edging inside, quite aware that the inferior lubricant might mean a slightly more uncomfortable stretch for his husband. 

Dean gasped as he was filled, and his head fell back against the wall as he adjusted. He gave a light nod when he was ready, and Cas started to move, slowly at first, but when he’d eased up and Cas could easily pound into him he did so with speed and force, and Cas tried to lift his hips to get the right angle, earning a moan when he found it. 

Small cries escaped Dean’s lips as his husband fucked him roughly. Cas pushed forward but his movements soon became erratic, his hold on Dean’s inner thighs slipping the sweatier they got. He pulled out irritably, and turned his husband round, pushing him against the wall and spreading his cheeks apart as he thrust his cock back inside. Dean gave out a low grunt, because his cock was pressed up against the wall now and every time Cas fucked up into him the pressure was fantastic. Cas hit his prostate a few more times and Dean chewed his lip, because he was only seconds away from coming all over himself. 

“Fuck!” He moaned, and as Cas pulled back he covered his cock with his own hand, squeezing even firmer. Cas panted behind him, and thrust up as quickly as he could. “Fuck Cas, I can’t… I’m gunna…” 

“Come for me, baby.” Cas commanded, and at his husband’s request Dean arched up, his hole fluttering around Castiel’s cock as his orgasm hit him, come seeping out of him and over his hand, stomach, and the wall in front of him. “So beautiful, Dean.” 

Cas fucked into his sensitive hole for only a few more minutes before he was coming too, and as he spilled out inside him Dean wailed and twitched. 

“Holy fuck.” Dean whispered as Cas pulled out of him and come dripped down his ass. 

Little hums of peace and happiness were escaping Castiel’s lips as he held his husband close and pressed soft kisses to his cheek and temple. Amongst them were whispers of _I love you_ and _we’ll talk tomorrow_ , but as ever their time was short, and after only a moment’s respite they began to hurry to replace their clothes, wiping themselves down in haste. 

Almost as soon as Dean’s shirt was buttoned back up the door knocked, and they shot each other a quick look of _that was close_ before opening it and following the two crew members backstage, ready for their next section. Dean hadn’t focused too much on this part of the evening. His head had been so wrapped around his speech that he hadn’t had time to think about what came next. He and Castiel had somehow been roped into one of James Corden’s segments, you know, the one where they either have to answer really awful questions or eat really disgusting things? 

When they’d been welcomed onto the stage they took their seats in front of the cheery, British host and Dean couldn’t help but grin. The guy’s laugh was so fucking contagious. He did grimace though, when he saw the delightful selection of completely horrendous ‘foods’ in front of him. Could you really count buffalo dick as a food? He wasn’t sure. Was this a terrible idea? Yes. 

There was a bit of smalltalk, mainly answered by Cas because Dean was too busy staring at this awful fish eye that seemed to be looking back at him. It was so gross. But when James cleared his throat they knew it was show time, and Cas shot him a look and a partial grimace, because he knew these next few minutes might get uncomfortable. 

“Right, ok.” James was holding in a laugh and Cas narrowed his eyes a little defensively. The host rotated the table until the buffalo penis was in front of them. This was the worst idea ever, how in hell had he been roped into this? “Castiel, rank your friends in order from best to worst out of Charlie Bradbury, Taylor Swift, and Jennifer Lawrence.” 

Castiel groaned, and turned to look at his husband who had a laugh on his lips. At least someone was enjoying this. He took a closer look at the shrivelled bull dick in front of him and scratched his head. There was no way he was putting that shit in his mouth, but was he gunna be able to answer the question without causing some serious issues? Probably. Just about. He could be apologetic about it. 

“C’mon Cas, answer the damn question. I don’t need to eat dick today.” Dean said, and it took a moment for him to realise what he’d just said but James and the audience were roaring with laughter while Cas went a bright red and chewed down on his lip to hold his own laughs in. Dean laughed it off too, just about, even if he did look a bit more flustered now. They were lucky it was past the watershed. 

“Ok, ok, ok.” Cas chuckled, and he wafted his face quickly to cool off. “Forgive me for this guys. Best, it has to be Charlie, she’s our rock.” He grinned because Charlie was in the audience and he could hear her whooping. He knew she’d get some airtime for that and she’d be pleased for it, she was halfway famous herself now. “Then… oh god it’s so hard. I’m gunna have to say Jen, just because I haven’t seen Taylor so much recently but it’s not personal Taylor I promise!” 

The audience applauded his honesty and Cas just tried to make sure he looked apologetic. He felt a bit guilty about answering, but he wasn’t ever gunna eat that awful fucking stuff. 

“Our turn.” Dean grinned, and he glanced at his husband before spinning the table around to choose the salmon sperm. He picked up the question card happily, and Castiel just watched with amusement, sipping at the beer he had next to him and trying not to wonder just how awful salmon jizz would taste. “James, out of Justin Bieber, Mariah Cary, and Adele, who was your least favourite Carpool Karaoke and why?”  

Neither were surprised when James just shot them a grin and picked the bad smelling pink liquid up and knocked it quickly back, but that didn’t make it any less disgusting, and Cas had to look away before he hurled on stage. Dean too looked like he was seconds away from throwing up, he was almost gagging. 

When the host reached down for the next question card and lifted it, this time he failed to hold in his laughs. “We definitely are past the watershed, right?” He asked his producers for confirmation before he carried on, and Dean braced himself, obviously things were about to get PG13. “Dean, do you top or do you bottom?” James could barely contain himself for giggling, and at the question Dean burst out in fits too. Cas had dropped his head into his hands, completely ready to eat the snail that had been put in front of them (almost praying to, if he was honest), but Dean wasn’t about to give up. 

“Bottom.” He said confidently, still laughing, and Castiel looked up at him from under his hands, in complete disbelief that he’d just admitted to that on live TV. What a fucking idiot he’d married. He knew he’d done it just to embarrass him, too. Did he have _any_ shame left? Cas was starting to regret encouraging that whole, honesty is the best policy thing. 

At the next question James chose to eat again. Cas had asked him the now infamous Kimmel-vs-Fallon question, and once again he’d given that typical broad grin, put his fingers into the bowl and confidently placed the dried up scorpion into his mouth. Cas could hear the crunch and it turned his stomach, so he drank more beer to ignore it. 

“Ok, ok, since we’re going for it now…” James said with a grin as he turned the table. “I think you can have… the fish eye.” He laughed a wicked laugh.

“Jesus Cas, you just had to piss him off didn’t you.” Dean laughed. He was well aware that the questions were pre-written, he was just winding him up. The audience were loving it, whatever the cost. Cas gave him a nudge to the ribs in return and he pretended to act offended. 

The audience was enjoying Castiel’s embarrassment, it was clear. Cas was completely regretting agreeing to this, even if Dean was having a great time. Dean seemed to enjoy making him uncomfortable on TV. It wasn’t the first time he’d talked about their sex life with a whole nation watching, after all. 

“Castiel, what’s the worst sexual thing you’ve ever done?” James was grinning, and Cas suddenly wondered whose team Dean was on when he turned and started to laugh, eyeing him with a curious look. 

“What do you mean by worst?” Cas asked for clarification. His face hadn’t been anything less than beet red for an age now.  

“I don’t know, the most generally frowned upon by the public I suppose.” James was having a great time, but as Cas thought back, staring at the fish eye in front of him, he suddenly remembered what his answer would have to be, and there was _no_ _fucking way_ he was going to say that on TV. 

“Dean, we’re eating.” He said confidently. 

His husband wasn’t having any of it, and he was laughing too, egging James on because apparently his new favourite thing was winding Castiel up and completely embarrassing him. “Why?” Dean asked with a broad grin. “What are you thinking of that’s so bad?” 

Cas shot him a pointed look, and Dean’s brow furrowed. He could see his husband didn’t know what he was getting at, so instead he leant forward and put a hand over his mic to ensure this did not get broadcast. 

“Do you want me to tell them all how I made you come in your pants in class that time?” He whispered into his husband’s ear. As he pulled back Dean’s expression changed, and James laughed even harder now the tables had turned, and Dean started to go red too. 

“Yeah, no. Don’t tell them that.” Dean agreed, and the audience were all but rolling around laughing at their now mutual discomfort. “Oh fucking hell, why’d he have to pick the fucking fish eye?” 

Castiel laughed too then, because the situation was so ridiculous, but he locked eyes with his husband as they reached down and it took some courage and a few moments of forcing himself but he did eventually put the awful thing in his mouth and chew. It was beyond the worst thing he’d ever tasted, and he lasted barely two seconds before he’d spat it into the bucket and downed the rest of his beer. He didn’t think he’d ever remember the taste of anything good again, it felt like his tastebuds were permanently scarred, and even his beer tasted bad on top. 

At his side, Dean had actually thrown up, and Cas kind of felt like that was payback. 

“I can’t speak for my husband, but I hope you realise, James.” Cas said confidently, grinning. “That I am never, _ever_ going to play this game again.” 


	12. So Show Me Family

“Oh holy fuck.” Castiel heard his husband groan. His eyes opened slowly, because his head was pounding, and when he looked up at the ceiling the room was spinning. His stomach churned uncomfortably like he might hurl at any given moment. Memories of tequila slammers came back to him slowly, but after that, nothing. It was definitely Dean at his side. They were in their own bed from what he could tell, both completely naked. Cas ran a hand over his stomach, grimacing at the feel of dried on come and wondering how long they’d had to fuck last night to have reached orgasm when he couldn’t even remember having sex in the first place. 

Dean’s hand was groping out to his side table, and it took Castiel that long to realise that they were awake because his phone was ringing. He caught a glimpse of the clock when his husband answered the call, and he was shocked to see it was almost 1pm. How long had they stayed out last night? 

“Are you decent?” Charlie sounded far too lively considering she was starring in many of Castiel’s horrible tequila flashbacks. “I’m outside your room.” 

“Oh god why are you outside our room?” Dean complained, rubbing his forehead. Charlie must have crashed at theirs last night. “No we’re not decent, we’re both completely naked.” 

“Put some clothes on then.” 

“I can’t even move my head without throwing up in my mouth, Charlie, I can’t get up yet.” Dean groaned, and Cas let out a little laugh, closing his eyes again.

“Just cover your junk you asshole, I need to talk to you.” 

Cas sighed at the girl’s relentlessness, but he made sure the sheet was adequately covering their bottom halves and his own dirty top half. Dean shuffled back up the bed, grimacing with his hangover as he got himself comfortable. Without further warning, their bedroom door opened, and Cas watched with hazy eyes as their best friend strolled in and took a seat at the end of their bed, cross legged. 

It took him a moment to realise why Charlie was quiet. Her eyes had locked with Dean’s after scanning him up and down, and it suddenly hit Castiel that she’d never seen his bare abdomen, that she’d never seen his scars. He’d got so used to his husband’s body that he rarely thought about how infrequently Dean took his shirt off when he wasn’t in private, but the fact that he’d not tried to cover them again was a moment of great personal growth for him. 

“How are you feeling?” Cas croaked, because he didn’t want the stare to go on too long, couldn’t deal with uncomfortable air between them when he felt so rough. 

“Not too bad.” Charlie smiled back at him, snapping her attention back to the present. “You both look like shit.” 

“Feel like it too.” Dean’s tone was positively petulant. 

The red head laughed, at which Dean just scowled. “You gotta get up.” She insisted. “I need to talk to you both about something important.” 

“About what? Can’t you talk here?” The thought of getting out of bed seemed almost as hard as climbing Everest right now, and Cas wasn’t sure he had it in him. 

“You don’t remember what you said last night?” Her one eyebrow was raised, and the look she gave him was pointed. _Oh Christ, what had they said now?_ Surely they hadn’t been stupid enough as to mention they were planning to start a family when they hadn’t even had a chance to talk about it properly between themselves? Particularly when they’d promised to keep it secret for now. Cas knew he and Dean had talked a bit when they’d first got to the afterparty, but he’d been drunk already by then, and his husband hadn’t been sober either. 

Cas chanced a glance at Dean, who was side eyeing him with trepidation. “No, I don’t remember what we said.”

“What _you_ said, if you want to get pedantic. Just clean up and come meet me downstairs, ok?” Charlie smiled as she stood, and walked casually out of the room. And great, it looked like he was taking full blame on this one. Fuck, surely he hadn’t blown their secret before it was even decided on? What an idiot. 

“What did you say to her?” Dean asked, as if he’d been lying to Charlie’s face. 

“I honestly don’t remember.” Cas admitted, chewing his lip. 

“You wouldn’t have said about —” Dean began.

“—I hope not.” Castiel interrupted. Dean dropped his gaze and rubbed his face with his hands. “We better get up and find out.” 

“Easier said than done.” Dean frowned.

The task of getting up, showering and dressing was a mammoth one, but they did feel eventually better for doing it. Even if they’d had to pause mid shower to take turns throwing up, their heads (and stomachs) were now a bit clearer. But hangover aside, Cas felt like he was going to have a coronary. He was so tense with his need to know what he’d said to Charlie. He was wracking his brains, but nothing was coming back to him. He could remember doing shots at the bar, a bit of dancing, a few famous faces, but other than that nothing. Would he really have spilled their secret already? Probably. He was so fucking excited about it. 

Realistically, he knew Dean would forgive him for the slip up, but he still couldn’t help but wonder if he’d imagined his husband side eyeing him while they’d showered. He probably had, and actually, when he let the reasonable side of his brain take over he decided that Dean was looking pissed off more because he felt like crap than because he was wondering what Castiel had spilled. And when he puckered his lips and caught Dean’s eye, Dean shot him a grin and kissed him happily. 

 

*

 

As they took the stairs and rounded the corner into the living room, Castiel’s heart was pounding erratically. Dean didn’t look too phased when he glanced back at him, whether because he still felt awful or because he didn’t care so much Cas wasn’t sure. He pushed open the door and Charlie looked up from where she lounged on their couch. Cas looked around at the room, the vaguest of memories coming back to him, of the three of them still drinking early in the morning, of him talking about something important, of Charlie wrapping her arms around them both and grinning. 

“Feeling any better?” Charlie asked the two men. 

Dean wrinkled his nose and dropped onto the other couch. “Barely.” He complained. Cas just gave her a half smile and took a seat next to his husband, trying to keep his breathing steady despite his anxiety. 

“I think I threw up last night, must have, ‘cause I don’t feel too bad at all today.” Charlie commented, and Dean nodded. 

“Yeah, I remember you sneaking off for a tactical puke.” He laughed. 

“What did I say to you last night, Charlie?” Castiel blurted without warning. He couldn’t hold it in any longer, he had to know what he’d said. 

“Ok, ok.” Charlie smiled at his impatience, and locked eyes with his own. “I want you both to know that I categorically never want children of my own.” She began, and Cas groaned inwardly. How had he been such an idiot? It had been his idea to keep it a secret, and yet he’d blabbed anyway. “But I realised a long time ago that you two would, at some point.” 

Castiel chanced a glance at his husband, who looked somewhere between pissed off and curious. His arms were folded across his chest and his brows were furrowed, eyes narrow. Dean caught his eye, but they said nothing. 

“Look, this is a decision I made ages ago, before you were even married. You two can’t have kids of your own without help, but you want them. I don’t want kids but I can make them. So here’s my offer. If it’s what you want, I’ll be your surrogate. With the condition that we use a donor egg, because I don’t want things getting complicated. Everything would be too weird if I was your kid’s mom. But yeah, if you want me to, I’ll do it.” 

The mouths of the two famous men dropped open, and Cas was vaguely aware of Dean staring at him from his peripherals, but he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard, and his gaze was all on Charlie. Whatever he’d expected to happen, it hadn’t been this. Was she really offering to bear him a child? Like, seriously? He couldn’t believe anyone would want to do that for them, particularly Charlie. He loved the girl to pieces but he couldn’t understand why she’d undergo such a dramatic and potentially traumatic thing for them. If they went through with this, he’d _never_ be able to repay her.  

“I’m not gunna bring it up again unless you do, so if you decide that you’re ready for it, that you want a baby and you want my help, then just let me know.” Charlie continued, because the two men remained completely silent in their shock. She stood, and turned to leave, but Cas couldn’t let her go, not just yet. 

“Why, Charlie?” He said suddenly, and Dean focused his attention back on their friend. 

The red head smiled , looking back at him with fondness and affection. “What do you mean, why? Do you have any idea how much you’ve done for me, really?” She asked, and Cas watched her curiously. “You’ve completely changed my life.” She went on. “Both of you have. Dean was my best friend before you came along, always there if I needed him, and you’ve quite literally moved me across the country to be with you both, you’ve bought my house, you’ve fixed up my job, introduced me to half of my idols. I mean, guys, seriously. I’m basically famous and it’s all down to you. Don’t you get that I owe you?” 

“Charlie, I didn’t do any of it so that you’d owe me—” Cas began. 

“—I know that.” She interrupted. “I’m not saying that. Cas I _want_ to do this for you both, to give you something back after everything you’ve done for me.”  

They both remained stunned, staring at her like she was offering them more than they deserved. She rolled her eyes, but with a smile on her lips. “Just think about it, ok? I’m gunna head home.” 

Even after she’d left Cas had no idea what to do or say or how to feel. He was completely ecstatic on one hand, but he felt like it was so much to ask of her, it made him extremely nervous. What if they went through with it and something went wrong? How could he ever repay her then? Plus he had no idea how Dean was feeling. A few minutes after she’d shut the door behind her he turned to look at his husband, and Dean looked as bewildered as he felt. 

“Dean, I’m sorry I told her.” He began. “I didn’t mean to, I guess I was just excited and—”

"—What? Cas, shut up. I’m not mad.” Dean interjected. “Did you not hear what she just said? We could have a baby of our _own_ , Cas.”   
Castiel stared at his husband, completely unsure how to respond until Dean’s lips broke out in this beautiful wide grin, true happiness he’d seen on him far too infrequently over the course of their lives. 

“I was going to say to you that I couldn’t dream of asking anyone to surrogate for us, so I thought we should adopt.” Dean said. “But she’s offered. She _offered_ , completely unprovoked, Cas. We could have kids of our _own._ ” 

Watching how excited Dean was getting was filling his heart with joy, and Cas slowly let himself smile, because he was right, maybe this could happen. He let out a happy little laugh, and Dean leant over to kiss him. The sensations quickly overwhelmed them both, and before he knew it Cas had pushed his husband back and pinned him on the couch, his tongue licking inside him. Dean pushed him off a moment later, beaming wildly. 

“Calm down, Romeo. My ass is still hurting from whatever the fuck we did last night.” 

Castiel laughed and backed off, sitting back on his knees. “Sorry.” He apologised, smiling. “So, you want this? You want to take her up on the offer?” 

“Of course I do!” Dean smiled, but it soon faded. “Wait, don’t you?” 

“No, I do, I just, I don’t know, I’m so surprised.” Cas finally let it hit him, how happy they could be, were going to be, and it felt almost foreign. A question came to his mind, and his smile turned contemplative. “How do you want to, you know, decide?”

“Decide what?” Dean looked at him curiously. 

“Whose stuff we use.” Cas looked almost embarrassed at the thought. “Who’s the actual father.” 

Dean frowned. “Cas, what I said last year, I haven’t changed my mind on that.” He said quietly, and Cas watched him with sad eyes. He was willing to accept a family in any shape or form but he had hoped that Dean might have reconsidered, that perhaps he might one day be allowed to watch a baby grow up with Dean’s beautiful green eyes. “I’m ready for this, I promise you, but it _has_ to be your baby. I don’t want him in them. Besides, you’re the one with the talent. We need those genes, baby.” 

Castiel scoffed, but nodded. “Ok, as long as you’re sure.” 

“I am.” Dean grinned. “What would you want, a boy or a girl?” 

“I haven’t really thought about it.” Cas laughed. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about it, it had always been too painful until now. 

“If we have a boy, we could call him Robert, you know, after Bobby?” Dean suggested, and Cas smiled as he remembered the grizzled old guy in his shop that he’d met only a handful of times, but who had looked out for Dean in his youth. 

“Yeah, we could.” Cas agreed, beaming. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

“You better get used to it.” Dean grinned. 

 

I’ve been sleeping in my bed,

Sleeping in my bed.

**So show me family,**

All the blood that I would bleed.


	13. Baby I Can See Your Halo, You Know You're My Saving Grace

When the tones of Dean’s cell rang out into the room for the fourth time that evening, he chewed down on his lip to hold his complaints inside. He stretched his hand out automatically to cancel the call, but at his side, Castiel was quicker. Dean watched as his husband snatched the phone from the arm of the couch and lifted it to his ear, a fury in his eyes that he rarely witnessed. 

“If you don’t stop calling him I’ll phone the police.” Castiel snapped down the line, with no proceeding greeting. Dean could hear Lisa’s voice on the other end, could hear her aggravated tone. He knew exactly what she’d be saying, the same thing she’d said the first three times when he’d answered; _he has a responsibility for his family_ , or _Adam was lying, you can get a DNA test to prove he’s the father_. As if she thought he cared enough to do that, when Adam was no more his brother than John had been his father. 

“No, you listen to me, you arrogant little bitch. In case you’ve forgotten I’ve got a lot more money than you, and the lawyers I hire will wipe the floor with your pathetic ass, so I suggest you shut the fuck up and carry on with your sad little life before it comes to that. We owe you _nothing_ , and if you had any sort of heart you’d understand what your lies do to him.” Cas went on, and Dean had to say he was impressed (and a little turned on, Castiel was so fucking hot when he was angry). It had been a long time since he’d heard his husband speak like that to anyone, although actually, it had been Lisa when he’d snapped last time. He remembered his husband trying to hold back his anger on the London Eye. It was probably partly a jealousy thing, his hatred for her, even though the ring on his finger meant he quite clearly had won. Dean didn’t know, but Cas often thought about the ring he’d nearly put on _her_ finger instead. 

In the two weeks since Red Nose Day, when Dean had admitted to the press the existence of John’s secret second family, the media had been having a field day. Looking back from a publicity sense, maybe it hadn’t been the smartest move. He definitely could have found a more discrete way of revealing his news, but he’d needed to let it out for his own mental health, and it had seemed like a good idea at the time. 

It wasn't that he _regretted_ telling them about Adam and his mother, but the backlash had been intense. Naomi had lectured him the following afternoon about the delicacies of handling the media swarm that constantly clouded them, but he’d seen past her stern talk and noticed the glint of pride in her eyes. He’d had more requests for appearances and interviews than he’d had since he first started getting any attention, and the pile of letters that their manager had dropped in front of him the next morning had his stomach churning with anticipation. But he’d worked through a lot of them already, his head left spinning from answering the same questions on loop, everyone forcing him to keep digging back into his past no matter how hard he tried to keep his answers focused on the future. 

The constant press attention kept mixing him up; some interviews he’d come out of smiling, and others he’d feel worse than when he entered. Although he wouldn’t admit out loud that Castiel had been right when he’d suggested they wait before jumping into starting their family, Dean knew in his heart and mind that he was. While he wasn’t as much of a mess as he had been a couple of weeks before, he was definitely still having bad days to go with the good. It was easier though, now that Cas was in on it with him, and he was forcing himself to be more open and honest because it was helping him to sort through his mixed up emotions.

He hadn’t been alone in the media uproar, however. It hadn’t taken more than two days for the media to track Adam down. Not being used to it, though, he’d made the mistake of talking, just as Dean had once upon a time. They’d been practically camped outside his door ever since, from what he gathered online. Not that Dean cared, though. He felt a little bit guilty for dragging the guy into it, but he’d been such an ass when they’d met that he found it hard to find any sympathy for him. 

“Do you really think I care?” Cas was still ranting down the phone at Dean’s ex-girlfriend, and the pure hatred in his voice is what snapped him out of his reverie. “These aren’t empty threats, I _will_ get a restraining order.” 

“Cas, just block her number.” Dean said softly, reaching out to take his husband’s hand in his own. Cas shot him a look and frowned, because quite clearly he wanted to take the matter further. “She’s not worth your time, just hang up the phone.” 

Part of Dean thought his husband might have actually been enjoying arguing with her, because he looked a bit reluctant when he dragged it away from his ear and hit the end call button. But Dean just grinned at him, and Cas soon forgot about her when their lips pressed together. 

As he pulled back, Dean lifted his hand to his husband’s cheek and cupped his skin lightly, Cas humming at the contact and pressing into the touch. “Girl.” He said, and Cas looked at him curiously. “I’d love a daughter.” 

Castiel’s face broke out in an instant, beautifully wide smile that Dean couldn’t help but return. “I’d love a girl too.” He agreed. “Sam is so lucky.” 

“He is.” Dean smiled. “But we’ll get our chance.” 

“We will.” Cas grinned, and leant in to snatch another quick kiss. 

“I want a baby now.” Dean said, but he was expecting the raised eyebrows he was met with. 

“Soon, but not yet.”

 

*

 

Time just kept flowing as it always had done. It wasn’t like he’d expected it to speed up, but the way life just kept ticking over was almost frustrating. Maybe he’d hoped that when he’d agreed to a family things would move quicker, that the excitement would let them flash forward to the bit where, you know, they _actually_ had a baby. 

But still they didn’t, and still Cas would say _not yet_ , and smile at him and kiss him. 

Dean was starting to get a bit antsy about it all, if he was honest. He knew in his heart that Cas was doing it for him, was waiting for him, but the way he saw it was that even when they’d finally started this whole process he’d have another nine months to wait, so why couldn’t they get on with it? 

He wouldn’t dare voice that to his husband, though. He could picture the frown on Castiel’s brow, knew exactly how he’d chew his lip and sigh. Yeah, better not. 

So meanwhile, he’d upped his therapy to twice weekly, because it had been really helping and he was impatient to get to the part where he didn’t need it any more. And he had been doing really well, for him. He continued on with his work and even if his heart raced through some of the interviews he was doing, you couldn’t tell just by looking at him, so he was fooling everyone around him just fine. Everyone except his husband, anyway. 

Castiel would watch him with such a scrutinising eye. The guy knew him so fucking well he may as well live inside his head. And yeah, Dean knew he was being cynical, but he also knew that Cas was picking holes in his composure because he had to be sure he was ready before he went through with it. The problem was, though, Dean was unsure if his holes would ever be completely fixed, if he’d ever pass Castiel’s watertight test. 

Last week, the movie star had finished shooting his biopic, and (lucky for Dean), that meant he’d had a little more spare time to be around, and a little more spare time to check up on his husband. He did love having Cas around more, he truly did, but it meant that Cas caught any hesitant moment he had. 

Today though, Castiel had been working again, reading through the script for the next Star Wars instalment. So naturally, Dean was incredibly enthusiastic about going home and swimming in the spoilers he was sure to find out. They sat down to dinner with a beer and a kiss. 

“So, tell me all!” Dean insisted, shooting his husband a wink. 

Castiel was looking a bit more coy than usual, uncomfortable, perhaps. As Dean loaded a forkful of linguine into his mouth his gaze turned more curious, and he realised that Cas had something to tell him, he just didn’t know what it could be. He eyed him curiously, rather than ask the question, and after a few moments Cas sucked in a deep breath. 

“Look, I… Dean, I don’t know if you’ve realised, if you noticed…” Cas began, and Dean furrowed his brow because no, he clearly hadn’t realised anything was going on. “They… uh. He’s… I’m… gunna have a romance arc in this movie.”

Dean shook his head after he’d swallowed down his food. It wasn’t like he was _comfortable_ watching Castiel make out with other people, even if it was just an act, but he’d gotten used to it enough. “With who? Orry isn’t around many women on the Ebon Hawk… and why are you bothering to tell me this? You’ve made out with half of the actresses of Hollywood.” 

“Yeah, see, that’s the point I’m trying to make.” A pink blush had made its way up Castiel’s cheekbones, and he rubbed with his fingers to try and get it to fade. “He…uh. Orry’s gay, Dean. It won’t be a girl I’ll be kissing.” 

Oh. Right. Dean paused, looking down at his pasta without any more enthusiasm for eating. He really shouldn’t be bothered by that, he _really_ shouldn’t. But it felt weird to him, the idea of his husband kissing other men. Much weirder than him shooting sex scenes with girls. That, he probably didn’t mind so much because he knew Cas had no interest in them. With other men? He felt a bit threatened. 

“Dean, you know I don’t want anyone else, right?” Cas said finally, because Dean had gone quiet for too long now. He’d obviously known it would bother his husband, which was why he’d decided to tell him straight away. 

“Yeah, I… yeah.” Dean looked up, a darkness in his usually bright eyes. “But that doesn’t mean he won’t want you.” 

“He’s straight, the guy I’ll be kissing. I promise you, he won’t want me.” Cas said in reassurance, reaching his hand out over the table to take his husband’s. 

“I thought I was straight until I kissed you.” Dean muttered petulantly, an ironic lift at the corner of his lips. That was all his jealousy talking, Cas knew as well as he did that he’d never been _straight_. He ran his free hand through his hair and squeezed Castiel’s fingers in his other. “I know I’m being an idiot, by the way.” 

“You still need to have more faith in yourself.” Castiel said, voice barely louder than a whisper. “You _are_ worth something, Dean, you’re worth a lot more than you realise.” 

Right, great, now Dean was pissed off as well as agitated and envious, because he’d realised now, what Cas was getting at. Yet another impossible standard Cas needed him to pass before he deemed him ready. At this rate, he was never going to get his approval. 

“That’s not a good enough reason, Cas.” Dean said suddenly. He hadn’t really meant for that to come out, but he’d said it and he couldn’t take it back now. His husband watched him curiously, with narrowed eyes. 

“Not a good enough reason for what?” 

“For waiting.” Dean said irritably. “I have _enough_ faith in myself, Cas. And I trust you. I just don’t trust other people.” 

“Dean, this isn’t about us starting a family at all.” Cas replied, with that exact frown on his brow that Dean had pictured earlier, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip with the agitation. 

“Isn’t it? Cas, I’m telling you I’m ready, but I’m _never_ going to be perfect.” 

“I’m not expecting you to be _perfect_.” Cas retorted, crossing his arms over his chest in defence. “But you’re still getting better. I just want you to be in the best place you can, and right now you still don’t have much faith in yourself.” 

“And you do?” Dean raised his eyebrows, his glare pointed. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Less than a month ago you were so sure I was cheating on you, you asked me if our marriage was over.” Dean reminded him, and Cas sucked in a breath because he hadn’t thought of it like that, and maybe his husband had a point. 

They paused for a moment in reflection, and after a little while Cas rubbed his hand through his hair and met his husband’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” He said truthfully. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know, I just… I just want things to be as good as they can be before we make that leap.” 

“I know you do, Cas.” Dean smiled a little sadly, and took his hand once again. 

“I do find it really hard.” Cas suddenly admitted. “I always have done. I know in my heart that you love me and I know that it’s crazy, but I can’t help but feel a bit inadequate when it comes to girls. I just don’t feel like I’m enough. It’s like, I feel I have to compete with everyone, and how could I compete with a woman when she could give you a baby?” 

“I know it probably doesn’t seem like it at the minute, with all my nagging, but that’s not the only thing that’s important to me, Castiel.” Dean said softly, and Cas smiled back at him. “But please, you really don’t need to worry. You’ve owned me from the first time we ever kissed. And you need to believe me, no one else, man or woman, has _ever_ come close to you.” 

Cas snorted, but Dean could see the tears in his eyes and knew he was touched. 

“Besides, you’ll give me a baby too.” Dean grinned, and Cas nodded.

“Are we as bad as each other?” Cas asked. 

“I’m still going to take the crown.” Dean insisted with a smirk, to which his husband rolled his eyes. “I can’t help but feel like I made you like that, though.” He admitted, smirk fading. “If I’d just been honest with you when we were younger, or even completely dishonest and just stayed away… I just messed you around so much that it’s no surprise you don’t trust me.” 

“I do trust you.” Cas stated. “I do, Dean. I do. But you can’t blame yourself, you really can’t. It’s your dad’s fault if it’s anyone’s, we just need to forget about it now.” 

“I might forget about it easier if you take me upstairs and get those handcuffs back out.” Dean said suddenly, and although Castiel looked at him with disbelief, his grin soon spread, and he’d taken his husband’s hands in his own to lead him upstairs before either of them knew it. 

 

Everywhere I'm looking now,

I'm surrounded by your embrace,

**Baby, I can see your halo,**

**You know you're my saving grace,**

You're everything I need and more.


	14. We Keep This Love in a Photograph

**We keep this love in a photograph,**

We made these memories for ourselves,

Where our eyes are never closing,

Hearts are never broken,

And time's forever frozen still.

 

He should have known something was up. Maybe he should have twigged from the way Naomi was hovering in the kitchen while he spooned his cereal lazily into his mouth. Maybe he should have just figured it out from the fact that she was already here at 8am on a Tuesday morning. Whatever the case, he definitely should have realised something was going on. 

It was only when Castiel had swallowed his last bite of breakfast and downed the rest of his strong coffee, dumping his bowl and mug unceremoniously into the sink, that Naomi cleared her throat. Cas was exhausted, and would have preferred not to talk at all. He’d never been a morning person, but it didn’t help that he’d been up until gone 1am screwing his husband while Dean’s hands had been cuffed behind his back. The memory alone elicited an involuntary smile. He looked up to meet her gaze, his own eyes sleepy and tired, but he continued getting himself comfortably seated at the breakfast bar before she began to speak. 

“So, Red Nose Day was a success.” She said simply, voice devoid of all emotion in true Naomi fashion. 

Castiel could hardly be bothered to respond to a comment he felt was entirely unnecessary, and he had no idea why she was bringing it up, so he just stayed quiet and let her carry on. 

“The team have been talking about where we go from here, with Dean’s work.” Naomi stated, and Cas raised an eyebrow. 

“So… why aren’t you talking to Dean about this?” He asked, with just the tiniest hint of irritation. 

“Because you need to know what the next step is.” 

It was bothering Castiel, how she was usually so direct and today dancing around the point like she was in a ballet. He didn’t mean to be, but he was getting a bit agitated. “And what is the next step?” He asked petulantly. 

“Modelling.” She said, and when Castiel narrowed his eyes in confusion she elaborated. “They want him to do a topless shoot, to show his scars.” 

Oh. 

“They want him to take his shirt off for the cameras?” Castiel asked, as if it could be interpreted in any other way. Naomi just nodded, and now Cas understood why she’d come to him. She was asking his advice. Was Dean ready for this? He didn’t know himself. Dean had healed, sure, but there was still work to be done. 

The actor cast his mind back to Red Nose Day, to how confidently Dean had told his story to the nation. But he also remembered seeing how Dean clutched at his abdomen, how he clung on to the fabric surrounding his scars. Maybe that was one barrier that shouldn’t be breached. 

“They think it will help to raise awareness.” Naomi clarified, her voice soft. “Aid in recognition.” 

“You realise he only ever takes his shirt off around me? No one else?” Cas said, although as the words left his lips he began to realise that they weren’t true any more. Dean hadn’t freaked out like he could have when Charlie had seen his bare abdomen, had bared all for Dr Nygard, but then maybe that was different. 

“Yes, I do. That’s why I’ve come to ask your opinion.” Naomi narrowed her eyes, but out of anticipation more than agitation. 

“I… uh. I don’t know.” Cas said truthfully. “He’s better but… I don’t know if he’s ready. What… ugh. Did you want me to ask him? Is that it?” 

“No.” Naomi said. “They plan on asking him tomorrow morning.” 

Castiel rubbed at the back of his neck with his fingers and sighed. “What have I got planned for tomorrow morning?” He asked. 

“Nothing.” Naomi smiled, and Castiel got the distinct impression that this was a work in progress, a plan set out long before he’d realised it. 

“Right.” 

 

*

 

It was a little difficult not to validate Dean’s suspicion the next day. The mechanic-come-celebrity had raised an eyebrow when Castiel had said he was going to accompany him to his morning meeting, but out of confusion not annoyance. Castiel had tried to play it cool, had shrugged and tried to act nonchalant about the whole thing, but Dean knew better, and Cas knew his defences were on high alert as they walked into the headquarters together that morning. 

It wasn’t long before Dean was shooting nervous glances around the organisation heads that were in the office with them. Castiel was cursing the poor acting talent of everyone around him (including himself right about now), because it was obvious that his husband was starting to get twitched, was starting to realise something was up that wasn’t good. It was only a matter of time before Dean started to really worry. 

“So that moves us on nicely to our next point of discussion.” The man with sandy coloured hair and a grey suit was saying. Castiel had forgotten his name already, but he’d been talking about Red Nose Day and the success it had been. Cas braced himself, because he somehow knew this was it. “We need to keep up our promotion of awareness.” The guy said. 

Castiel could tell he’d gone tense, and he knew that next to him Dean had felt it. His husband was shooting him uncomfortable little glances and shuffling awkwardly on his chair, as if preparing himself for the worst. It probably wasn’t a bad thing that he was getting his shields ready, Cas reasoned. 

“We need to talk about next steps.” The guy went on, and Cas had a slight brainwave that maybe his name was Burt. “Dean, you’ve been heavily involved and we can’t thank you enough.” He said. “But there is always more we could be doing, if you’re still happy to help.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure, of course.” Dean muttered, fidgeting with a pen between his fingers. Castiel’s hand found its way automatically to Dean’s leg, and he forced himself to meet his husband’s eyes, putting on a broad smile to reassure him even though his grimace was shining through. 

“We wanted to ask you, Dean, what you’d think about taking things one step further.” The guy that might be called Burt continued, and Dean forced his gaze back to him. 

“Further…?” Dean asked, looking uncomfortable and nervous. 

“We thought that a good way to raise awareness would be to show your scars, to show everyone how real it was for you.” 

Castiel had anticipated his husband’s reaction perfectly, and when Dean went rigid next to him, not speaking, he glanced up at the others in the office with a pointed look, which they took without complaint.

“We’ll give you some time to think.” The man said, and he abruptly stood, waving out the rest of the staff to leave Castiel alone with his husband. 

The movie star wasted no time in shuffling his chair closer and wrapping his arms around his husband’s back. Dean was shaking slightly when he let his head fall onto Castiel’s waiting shoulder, and he was chewing his lip so hard it was bleeding. Cas was hoping his reaction was more to do with the surprise than the actual request, but he couldn’t be sure. Cas let his breaths ring out loud and slow, and Dean copied his rhythm, breathing steadily after only a couple of minutes. 

“I get why you’re here now.” Dean stated a while later, voice pained. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Cas whispered, running his hand down Dean’s arm and squeezing in support. 

“I’m just glad you’re here.” His husband admitted. “I don’t know if I can do it.” 

Castiel sighed, and kissed Dean’s temple softly. “You can do it if you want to, I know you can.” He said in reassurance. 

“I don’t know if I want to do it.” Dean said instead, and he pulled back enough to look into his husband’s eyes. This was what Cas had been scared of. He and Dean both knew that he was capable of doing it, but Cas had harboured a suspicion that he might be reluctant because of his want for privacy and self-consciousness rather than his panic. 

They paused for a long moment in an almost tense silence, and Castiel stroked a thumb down Dean’s cheek in an attempt at reassurance, but Dean sighed when he finally dropped his gaze. “You want me to do it, don’t you?” Dean asked. 

“I don’t mind.” Castiel said, although strictly it wasn’t the truth. “I want you to do what’s best for you.” 

“C’mon Cas, don’t bullshit me.” Dean protested. 

Cas inhaled sharply. “Ok. Yes. I think you should do it.” He said carefully. 

“Why?” His husband asked, nerves littering his voice. “Because it’s the only part of my life they don’t know about?”

“Because it’s part of your abuse that they don’t know about. You’ve always been so open and so honest about everything, and I think it’s partly why you’re getting better. And you’ve set a precedent. So maybe it would be good for you to carry that on, for yourself as well as for them.” Cas ran a hand through his hair as he sighed. “Dean, I’m not telling you what to do, but I don’t think  it would be a bad thing for you to go through with it.” 

“Cas, you’re the only person I’ve ever been comfortable showing my scars to.” Dean stated, voice wobbling in his distress. He had planned to go on, but Cas interrupted. 

“Dean, your scars _are_ your story. Your story is a part of you, it's made you who you are. And I love that. I love who you are, I love every part of you. Besides, you know that's not true, Charlie has seen them, and you showed your therapist.” Cas pointed out. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “My therapist is a bit different.” He insisted, but he didn’t protest any further. He was coming round to the idea, if he was honest. Maybe Cas was right, maybe by baring all and owning his scars he’d finally emotionally own his abuse, maybe he needed this so they could completely move on. He made a resolution to himself to try, for Castiel’s benefit as well as his own. 

“Cas, can you get Naomi in here?” He asked, and although Cas shot him a confused look he nodded, and turned to the door, which he peered out of as he beckoned their manager back into the office.  

When Castiel turned around he met the determination in Dean’s eyes, and as Naomi crossed through the door into the office his husband dragged his t-shirt up and over his head, a slight shake in his limbs as he was left half-naked. Cas flashed his gaze to Naomi, who had been completely unprepared for the sight before her. His manager though, had an excellent poker face, because she kept her face straight as she studied Dean’s body. 

It wasn’t easy to look at. Even though Castiel was used to its scarred appearance, every now and then when he really looked it would turn his stomach. It was because of his guilt and pity, not out of disgust, but the scars tarnishing the otherwise perfect body weren’t a pretty sight. 

While Naomi performed her straight faced visual inspection, Dean stood with fear in his eyes. Castiel eyed his husband carefully. The mechanic looked uncertain, vulnerable, nervous. The man he knew could be so confident reduced to a quivering mess just for having his body on display. 

“Ok.” Dean choked a moment later. “Let’s do this.” 

Castiel would never understand the strength that his husband constantly found out of nowhere. He could never hope to be as strong or determined as Dean was on a daily basis. He was so proud though, and his pride shone through as they were led through into a studio room, and Dean stood nervously in front of the large white screen. 

He did notice though, that when they produced the camera Dean’s lip started to wobble. He could almost see his husband seizing up as the photographer snapped the shutter a few times quickly. Cas had to yell at them to stop, when Dean’s hands came up to pull at his face and hide away. 

But Cas had already reached his side, and had pulled Dean’s limp frame into his arms to hold him close. He hadn’t thought it through, perhaps Dean hadn’t either, but the combination of vulnerability and being photographed looked liker it was taking him right back to that airplane bathroom, a place Dean never needed to be reminded of again. 

Dean was quivering when Cas pulled back enough to look into his eyes, and Cas left a kiss on his lips to bolster his courage. Tears had welled in Dean’s bottom eyelids, threatening to spill, and Cas nuzzled his forehead because he didn’t mind if they did. They stared at each other for a long moment, and Cas could tell how grateful Dean was for his being there, and how relieved he felt that there were no secrets left between them, because now Cas knew what he was comforting him over. 

Cas left another kiss on his husband’s lips before pulling him closely in again. They’d turned somehow, so that Dean’s back was angled towards the camera, and Cas flashed his eyes open when he heard the camera shutter click, and Naomi shot him an eye to say carry on, because apparently getting pictures of Dean upset was what she’d wanted all along. He’d have words about this later. 

Or he would, if Dean seemed to mind. At an instruction from the photographer, Dean turned around to face the camera, letting his back rest against his husband’s chest while Cas clutched his hands to Dean’s waist and pressed his lips against his neck. 

And Cas had to admit, when he saw the image later, it looked so natural. It was definitely the right choice for their promo, because in it, you could see everything. Dean’s scars, his strength, his determination, but also his anguish. 

The picture said it all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that the last couple have been pretty short! 
> 
> Change is in the air....!
> 
> Will be back Monday! As always thank you for comments and kudos!


	15. Now Is Not the Time to Cry, Now’s the Time to Find out Why

Maybe I will never be,

All the things that I want to be,

**But now is not the time to cry,**

**Now's the time to find out why.**

I think you're the same as me,

We see things they'll never see.

 

 

It was so rare that lazy Sunday mornings for them were just that. Cas had been genuinely excited last night not to set an alarm for the following morning, so they were both sound asleep when the call came through. 

The actor groaned as he pulled his arms out from under his stirring husband, his brow furrowing into a deep frown when he caught the time on the alarm clock, but he grabbed his ringing phone and pulled it reluctantly to his ear all the same. 

“Nay, it’s 8am on our day off, can this wait?” He whispered, rolling away from Dean in the hopes that at least one of them could remain undisturbed. 

“No, it definitely can’t wait.” His manager said in response, and that tone she was using had his stomach churning. It was the same one she used when their lives went to shit, which recently was happening on an almost weekly basis. “Are you with Dean right now?” 

“Yeah, I’m in bed.” He replied quietly, but by her hesitant tone, he could tell already she was going to ask him to go somewhere alone, so he snuck out of bed as gently as he could while she voiced that exact thought. He spoke again when he’d reached the bathroom and pulled the door closed. “Ok, I’m alone. What’s going on?” 

“When you met Adam, what exactly did Dean tell him?” She asked carefully. 

Castiel’s heart sank quicker than he’d realised it could. He’d hoped that they'd put this whole fucking mess behind them. Not that he had, though. Considering he still hadn’t manned up enough — wasn’t sure he ever would, mind you — to tell Dean that he’d taken out a restraining order on Lisa, or that he’d slandered her to the press the other week, either. “The truth.” He paused. “He told him about the things that had been done to him, who he was, how John died…” 

“Did he talk to him about something that happened on a plane when he was—?”

“—Oh god.” Cas brought his face up to cover his hands even though he was alone. If Naomi knew about this, then it meant that Adam had gone to the press with his knowledge. If he’d gone to the press, then everyone knew, the whole world knew Dean’s darkest secret. How the fuck was his husband going to recover from this? He’d only felt able to confide in Castiel himself in the last few months. “He hasn’t… tell me he hasn’t gone to the press.” 

“I wish you’d told me it was a lie.” Castiel could hear the frown in Naomi’s voice, and she wasn’t denying his dark suspicions. 

“I wish I _could_ tell you it was a lie.” He replied, to which she sighed. He knew Naomi cared greatly for Dean, and the more she got to know him the more she understood why he could be so vulnerable and volatile.  

“Castiel, the two of you need to get up, I’m on my way over to you, and to warn you, I’m not alone. The police are quite obviously very interested in these claims.” 

“You called the police before us?” Cas exclaimed, suddenly very pissed off. 

“No, Castiel, the police called me.” 

Oh holy fuck. As Cas hung up the phone he allowed himself a moment of panic in front of the mirror. He had to hold it together in front of his husband, so he let it out quickly, breathing out his panic as his hands shook gently. Oh fucking fuck, they were so screwed. How in hell would Dean ever get over this? He could kiss goodbye to progress if this was all going to be dragged out, and if the police were involved, they could be looking at an ongoing investigation. It could span years. What the hell would be left of his husband if this took years? 

“Cas, I need to pee.” Dean’s voice broke him out of his panic and he snapped his head back to look at the door. He pulled it open to meet his husband’s tired eyes, and was relieved that Dean bustled past him without much thought. Cas stepped back into the bedroom and shut the door behind him, sucking in a few deep breaths, and trying to steady himself when he heard the toilet flush and the faucet turn on. 

A few moments later and the door opened again, a curious looking Dean peering out at him from under the frame. Cas put on a smile, one that certainly wouldn’t win any awards, and his husband narrowed his eyes. 

“What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Dean commented, furrowing his brow. 

Castiel could have lied outright. He could have blamed his pale complexion and his slight shake on a bad dream, but his concern was giving him away, and he owed Dean more than that. So instead, he told a white lie — he couldn’t own up to the whole truth without some help. “I don’t know, Naomi’s on her way over. She sounded flustered.” He said. 

“She’s coming now?” Dean groaned, climbing back into bed anyway as if he could have another quick nap before her arrival. “For fuck’s sake, it’s our only day off this week. Couldn’t it wait?” 

“Apparently not.” Cas said quietly, perching on the end. 

Dean watched him carefully for a few moments, as if he knew that Cas was holding something back, but he didn’t push it any harder. He was as aware as Castiel that if Naomi was coming without notice, then there was something going on that they needed to know about. Cas eyed him cautiously, and before Dean could reach for his cell phone Cas leaned over and grabbed it, putting it in his own pocket. No doubt someone helpful would have informed him of the news. He did not need his husband finding out about it like that, but that ingeniously quick action had already roused his suspicions. 

Instead, they pulled on some clothes, and poured coffee in the kitchen. The silence between them wasn’t awkward, but it still felt tense. Cas suddenly couldn’t remember how to behave normally, what did they even talk about on a normal day? And he wasn’t stupid enough not to realise that Dean had picked up on how weird he was being. 

They didn’t have to wait long, though, before things started to change. Castiel pressed the button to open the gate as soon as the intercom buzzed, and when he turned and saw Dean eyeing the security monitor with wide eyes, his heart sped up tenfold. 

“Why are the police here?” Dean whispered, a slight shake in his voice as he watched the cop car passing through their gate. “Cas, what the hell is going on?” 

“Try not to panic.” Castiel said, because that was all he could think of to reassure him. He put a hand on his arm, and his husband looked back at him with pure fear in his eyes. His only experiences with the police had been the corrupt ones in Kansas that were cronies of his father’s, so it was no surprise, really, that he had a few trust issues in that department. “Dean, it’s fine, it’ll be ok.” 

“What will?” Dean looked so alarmed that Cas nearly buckled, but he lucked out when they heard the hall door opening, and the two men rounded the corner to be faced with Naomi and two police officers. 

Castiel took a breath, and ushered their fairly unwelcome guests into the dining room where the two officers took a seat. Cas took a chair on the end, and let Naomi sandwich Dean between them for support. He looked up and met the sympathetic eye of the female officer, a middle aged blonde with wrinkled skin, and she glanced at her young male colleague a little nervously. Cas supposed they didn’t deal with celebrities all that often, particularly not to impart such bad news, at very least. At Castiel’s side, Dean was staring at Naomi, as if trying to get a clue about what the hell was happening. With an uncomfortable dread in his stomach, Cas grabbed his hand under the table and squeezed it tightly. 

“Mr Winchester.” The female officer addressed Dean formally, and Dean’s hand gripped magnetically closer to Castiel’s own. “There have been some allegations made by your brother, I don’t know if you are aware?” 

At his husband’s bewildered, terrified expression, Castiel couldn’t help but scoot a little closer and move his hand from between Dean’s fingers to his back. He watched as Dean opened his mouth, stuttered a little, but nothing audible emerged, so he instead shook his head. Cas swallowed, because the tension was eating him. 

“It has been reported to us by the media that you may have been the victim of sexual abuse as a child, and that you may have been a subject of child pornography.” Her voice was steady and professional, but Castiel could recognise an act when he saw one. The officer’s eyes were full of sadness and regret, and somehow he knew she was a mother, that she was mentally putting her own children in Dean’s shoes. 

“We have been told that these events occurred on a flight you were taken on with your father.” She went on, and it would have been easier not to, but Cas turned to look at his husband. Dean wasn’t breathing, probably hadn’t been for twenty seconds or so, his eyes were squeezed shut and he’d turned a deathly white. Cas felt bile rise to the back of his throat at the sight of the broken man, who he wanted nothing more than to pull to his chest and hold close enough that nothing would ever hurt him again. He settled on leaning close enough to press a kiss to his clothed shoulder. 

“Mr Winchester, the reason we have come here today is because this isn't the first report of this kind we have had. And it is still an ongoing problem. There have been others with similar stories of abuse during flights, although you may have been significantly older than most of the other children. So if these reports are true, there’s a chance your recall might be better, and we need any information you might have in order to bring these criminals to justice.” 

Dean somehow managed to pull in a ragged breath, and Cas watched as his gaze slowly tracked back up from the table, almost high enough to land on the cops in front of them. Almost. 

“Would you recognise the face of the person who abused you, Mr Winchester?” The male cop spoke up, entirely tactlessly. His female colleague chewed down on her lip as if she thought that wasn’t the right move, while Castiel winced, because he knew it wasn’t. Dean was reliving it again already, he didn’t need to focus on details right now. 

He had seen it coming, so he let his hand fall from around Dean’s back as his husband stood, turning and walking briskly out of the room. Cas brought his hands up to rub frustrated at his eyes, and he let out a long, slow breath. As he looked back up he caught the eye of the female officer, who looked genuinely affected. 

“What would you need him to do?” Castiel asked carefully. He’d need a miracle to talk Dean around to this, but if anyone could, it was him, and perhaps a bit of justice was what they needed to get their lives back on track for good. 

“Initially, a statement.” The blonde woman said softly. 

“And assistance with identifying the suspects. There are ongoing cases similar to this that we think are linked. Cases that are alarmingly recent. If he provides the right evidence, it could be our proof. We have a real chance at bringing this ring down.” The male cop added, and Cas had the impression he was new to the job. Newer certainly than his colleague, because he was yet to learn that compassion, still too caught up in the chase. 

With a sigh, and a quick glance at his contemplative manager, Cas nodded, and turned to follow his husband back up to their room. 

As he pulled open the door and found the bed empty, he frowned, because he was sure Dean hadn’t left the house. He stepped into the room, and it was only then that he heard the shower pounding down, so he rounded the corner into their en-suite, heart ripping in two when his eyes locked onto the shaking frame of his naked husband, sat on the tiled floor of the walk-in shower and crying into his knees. 

Castiel shuffled out of his jeans, but only because their phones were in the pocket. It was all the time he wasted before he slipped under the water and sat down next to Dean, pulling him as close as he possibly could. Dean was limp and fraught, and allowed his upper half completely to be manoeuvred into Castiel’s lap where he was held tightly, his hair stroked through by his husband’s large hands while Cas hummed his breathing pattern, in and out. 

“Will it ever end, Cas?” Dean choked out some time later, when their fingers were prune-like and Castiel’s clothes were completely soaked through. “I keep trying to get out of this nightmare, why does everyone want to pull me back in?” 

“It will end.” Cas said, although the conviction in his voice was entirely false. But he was thinking similarly, that every time Dean seemed to be on a healing path someone would derail him without warning. “We could just leave.” He suggested. 

“What do you mean, just leave?” Dean asked, sniffing back his tears and rolling his head to look up in his husband’s eyes. 

“Exactly that. We could just go, right now. We could get in the Impala and just drive, somewhere they won’t find us. We’ve got more than enough money for a new start. We could get simple jobs, live like normal people.”

Dean’s eyes softened at Castiel’s words. “I love that you’d do that for me, but you know we can’t.” He whispered, although the thought was tempting. “Not only because of your commitments, but we owe it to everyone we know not to do that. We can’t leave Sam, Jess and Lily, or Charlie. And besides, you’re quite recognisable.”

Cas let his eyes lift in a slight smile, but the sadness in them remained. His husband was completely right, as usual. And he knew that disappearing was a pipe dream when they were as famous as they were. Besides, it wasn’t in Dean’s character to back away from this without fighting, not recently, at least, not if he knew there were other kids that needed his help. “Then maybe justice _is_ what we need.” 

Hands coming up to cover his face, Dean sighed, but there was a new determination in his gaze when he opened his eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”  

 

*

 

The interview room was cold, clinical. There were no windows to the outside world, the only light provided by a cheap fluorescent strip that flickered a little, looked about twenty years old and was definitely on the way out. Each of the four walls was bare, the only decoration a mirror on the one opposite their seats that Castiel knew was a one way window. In front of them, the tape recorder sat, heavy and whirring, as that same male cop pressed the record button. 

“For the purposes of the tape, I, Detective Blake and my colleague, Detective Wesler, of the LAPD, are here to interview one Mr Dean Winchester-Novak, here with his husband Mr Castiel Winchester-Novak as support, regarding a report of sexual assault in the summer of 1993, possibly 1994, of which Mr Dean Winchester-Novak was the victim.”

Cas hated that word. He hated Dean being referred to as a victim. He knew he was, and god knows he deserved the sympathy and respect that came with it, but it felt like a constant reminder of vulnerability. Dean was so strong, stronger than any of them realised. 

“Dean.” Wesler addressed his husband directly, her voice softer than her male counterpart’s. Cas knew his husband hated being called Mr Winchester, it was probably half of the reason he’d been so keen to add in the Novak name. “Could you please explain to us, in your own words and with as much detail as you can recall, what happened in that summer?” 

At Castiel’s side, Dean cleared his throat. His hand was clammy where his fingers rested between Castiel’s, and he could feel how tense he was holding his muscles, his breathing ragged. 

“I can’t remember if I was 7 or 8, but… it was definitely one of those summers. It was the only vacation I ever went on as a kid, and I can’t remember quite where, but I think it may have been Florida, maybe Miami. Somewhere hot and by the beach, anyway.” Dean’s voice was shaking as much as his hands, and the breath he sucked in before he opened his mouth again looked like it was a struggle. 

“We were sat on the plane. I was in the window seat and my brother Sam was in the aisle seat, he was only 3 or 4 at the time, and he was asleep. Our dad was between us.” Dean choked, and he chewed on his lip for a few moments before he continued. “I remember being really cold and really scared. I hated being alone with my dad because he used to physically abuse me, and I’d never been on a plane before.” 

“My dad had been acting weird. I can remember thinking something was up, and it was making me more nervous. Sometime into the flight, maybe an hour or so — it’s hard to remember, I was just a kid and it was so long ago — he pulled me by my shoulder and into the aisle, and he said the word bathroom. I thought he was going too and he didn’t want to leave me, or that he just wanted to hit me without other people seeing.” By this point Dean’s tears were flowing freely, and Castiel had brought his other arm around his husband’s shoulder, leaning into him as a reminder that he was there. 

“But he didn’t follow me in. He just said not to lock the door.” Dean was sobbing, and Cas was having to hold his own tears back, his heart was hurting so much for his husband. “I think he regretted it. I think even he knew it was unforgivable.” 

“All child abuse is unforgivable, Dean.” Wesler said quietly. She poured a glass of water from the jug on the table in front of them and pushed it slowly over to the celebrity who was shaking with sobs. Castiel clutched Dean’s back and nuzzled his forehead against his husband’s shoulder. “Take a few deep breaths, there’s no rush.” 

After a pause and a few sips of water, Dean pulled his hands back away from his face and shot his husband a grateful half-smile. 

“This man, this stranger, came in behind me a minute or two later, and I started to panic. I tried to escape, but he was an adult, a lot older, bigger and taller than me, and he barricaded the door.” Dean sucked the air in again, but his lungs were turning steel and Cas could see him descending, so he breathed loudly and slowly at his side and clutched him tightly. “He pulled out a camera. An old film camera, I can remember him winding it up.” 

“Would you be able to describe him for us, Dean?” Wesler asked softly. 

Dean nodded and rubbed his cheeks. “White, caucasian. At the time, he was middle aged. Similar age to my father, late thirties maybe. Dark hair that was slightly greying, clean shaven. Long, upturned nose, thick lips, dark blue eyes. He looked permanently angry.” 

“You don’t happen to remember any more details about the camera?” Blake said suddenly, interrupting the atmosphere. “Was it a Polaroid, or a compact, or —?”

“—Compact, I think. It was black, silver strips at the top and bottom.” Dean shrugged, wiping tears away with his fingers. Cas didn’t know whether to be impressed by his recall or concerned about how traumatised he must be that it was so deeply imprinted. He noticed how the two officers exchanged a glance, but neither said anything, and Dean carried on with his story. 

“I tried to back away, but my knees were against the toilet.” Dean said, his voice now quiet. Cas had prayed he’d never have to listen to the story again, and he was aware that he was about to hear all the details Dean hadn’t told him. He was trying to mentally prepare himself, because he knew what was coming, and yet it was going to be so difficult hearing the words come out of his husband’s mouth. “He reached out and touched my skin, and he said: ‘don’t scream, don’t make a noise or your father will hear about it’.” 

After a pause, Wesler ushered Dean on, and he continued telling his story in more detail than Cas wanted ever to hear. He tried not to listen, tried instead to focus on the sounds of Dean’s in-coordinate breathing or concentrate on making his own breaths loud enough for his husband to hear. He tried to focus on the pounding of Dean’s heart, that he could feel through the skin on his back, that meant he was still alive and fighting, but it was too difficult, and he couldn’t help but picture his husband back then, only 7 years old and being forced into such awful things. 

It was hard not to feel a sense of overwhelming guilt. Castiel knew he hadn’t been responsible for the terrible things that Dean had gone through in their youth, but he’d never forgive himself for being so blind. It would always be his biggest regret, not seeing the truth, allowing Dean to walk out of his life at a time when he’d needed him more than ever. He tried not to, but he often wondered how different things would have been, if he’d been less sensitive and more observant, less self absorbed, or if Dean had just owned up to the truth from the start. It all weighed heavily on Castiel’s heart and mind, and he was lugging around his own share of pain because of it. 

By the time that Dean had been allowed to finish his story, he was clinging on to Castiel’s side and sobbing shamelessly into his husband’s shoulder. Castiel was fighting an internal battle, struggling desperately to hold his own tears back and stay strong for his best friend. The two detectives exchanged a brief look as Blake pulled out the paper copy of the statement they’d had Dean write earlier, and when he was recovered enough and breathing steadily, Dean took the offered pen and put his autograph on the bottom. 

“We’ll catch him, Dean.” Wesler said quietly. There was a hope and determination in her eyes that led Cas to believe that she would dedicate her career to it, and for that he was grateful. “We will.” 


	16. Maybe I Just Want to Breathe

Maybe I just want to fly,

I want to live I don't want to die.

**Maybe I just want to breathe,**

Maybe I just don't believe.

 

In the two weeks that had passed since Dean gave his statement to the police, their lives had gone unusually quiet. Being between projects, Castiel had thankfully been able to stay at home, Naomi arranging conference calls rather than face to face meetings if something just couldn’t wait. Dean too, had been able to take some time, as none of his charity work was urgent now that Red Nose Day had come and gone. 

So together they’d stayed in, most of the time, and curling up together watching movies in the in-house cinema, sitting up late at night and chatting, poking fun at each other, all of it took Castiel back to their youth, and reminded him why he’d fallen in love with his husband in the first place. It was the life they should have had from the start. 

They hadn’t talked about it though, not since that first night after they’d got home from the station. Cas had broached it, had asked Dean if he was ok and been promptly shut down with a sigh and an, _I’m fine, I don’t want to talk about it any more._ And so he hadn’t talked about it any more. Now, two weeks down the line he had a few concerns that he didn’t know how Dean was feeling, but he _was_ reassured that on the outside his husband appeared to be coping, because although Dean was a certified professional at bottling up his emotions and not talking things through, when things were bad you could normally tell by how he was acting. 

The media though, they hadn’t stopped talking about it. The two of them had assumed an implied social media ban, because they were being bombarded with messages and requests for interviews that were bypassing Naomi. Why they cared so much, Cas would never know. Why the world needed to know the ins and outs of his husband’s abuse sickened him and left him feeling sour. But Naomi and Charlie had kept up their accounts, and Dean hadn’t asked once to see anything. 

Tonight they were watching TV. Some new Netflix original. Cas was enjoying it actually, even if the acting was a little sub-par (those tears did _not_ look real). They were together on the couch, Cas upright and Dean lounging with his legs up and his back leant against Castiel’s side. Cas’s arm was around his husband’s chest and his head leaning gently on Dean’s, and it was peaceful and easy to just be. 

Cas sighed as his cell vibrated — a spare he’d activated for the time being, the number only known to a handful of people including his manager, Sam, Jess and Charlie — and he shuffled a hand into his pocket to drag it out. He frowned as he read Charlie’s message, and his heart began to pound furiously as he clicked on the link she’d sent, the captioned headline of ‘Dean’s abuser revealed’ chilling him to the bone. 

At his side, Dean wriggled comfortable, not paying a massive amount of attention to his husband and the message. Cas held his phone up high enough that Dean couldn’t see the screen, and when the page had loaded, the face he saw had him struggling to breathe. Dean had described him to a T. He'd wondered what Dean had meant when he’d described the man’s eyes as a dark blue, but he knew it now, because the ocean he looked into was darker than the sky of his own eyes.

Castiel scrolled down through the article, heart falling faster when he saw the warning — distressing images under the cut. It appeared someone had tracked down the photos that the strange man had taken, and from them he’d been identified. Cas clamped a tooth down on his lip and bit, hard, when his thumb dragged down and he was met with familiar eyes. The image had been cropped so it was not indecent, but the face he now looked at was definitely that of his husband’s; he remembered how he had looked so young and full of life when they were children, but here those green eyes were full of fear. 

There was a long pause while Castiel didn’t say anything. He had no idea what to do or say, but knew he had to bring this up sooner or later. His heart was throbbing with fury and pain and he felt like he was about to burst, but he was forcing himself to keep control because Dean would need his strength now. 

He was still mulling it all over when the couch vibrated again, but this time it was Dean’s phone that was ringing. He watched with anticipation and nerves as his husband pulled the phone from his pocket, and Cas caught a glimpse of Wesler’s name on the top of the screen and it turned his stomach as he watched Dean’s smile fade. 

“Yeah?” Dean’s voice shook with nerves as he answered the call, and Cas pressed his lips into his husband’s hair and tightened his arm around his chest in support. “Why?” He paused. “Uh… right, ok, sure. We’ll be there soon.” 

Dean hung up the phone and sat upright, tucking it back into his pocket with haste. He turned, a frown on his brow and a look of confusion in his eyes. “They want me to go into the precinct. They wouldn’t tell me why. ” He stated, but as he met his husband’s gaze he realised he was once again the last person to find out what was going on, and a panic set in to his features. “What, Cas, what is it?” 

Castiel chewed down on his lip and exhaled slowly. He didn’t know what to say, but he thought that handing over his phone would be too insensitive. “They’ve got someone in custody.” He began, an attempt at tactfulness. “Charlie has just sent me an article. They’ve found photos.” 

Considering it had been what he’d dreamed of when he was younger, Castiel often cursed his fame. If he’d just been an average person, if they both had been, then no one would have cared, at least enough to do anything. Arguably, they might not have caught the guy because of it, but having the world constantly exacerbating all of their problems and secrets wasn’t easy, and it was an added weight on them both.

Cas watched the panic in Dean’s eyes escalate, and he moved closer, placing a hand lightly on his husband’s cheek and forcing a light smile onto his lips in reassurance. 

“Show me.” Dean suddenly demanded. Castiel watched him cautiously for a few moments, because he wasn’t sure it was the best move, but Dean held his hand out for the phone and so, after a gentle nod of his head, Cas handed it over, article still loaded. 

It took a while for the emotion to show in Dean’s expression. Cas watched his husband look at the image with stoicism and strength, but after a long, agonising pause, his breath started to catch, his jaw trembling, and Cas leant in to pull him into a hug before he could get too panicked. He breathed out loudly and slowly, and Dean nuzzled against him, trying to stay on top of his emotions. Cas wanted to ask, needed to know whether this was the man responsible for some of his husband’s pain, and he was doing well at holding back until the question suddenly slipped from his lips. 

“Yeah, it’s him.” Dean replied, as if his reaction wasn’t enough of an answer. The two men clutched each other for a few more minutes, holding in pain and tears and suffering, until Dean eventually pulled back. 

 

*

 

They’d been sat in the corridor of the precinct for over an hour now. On arrival they’d been informed of the updates, and Dean had been reduced to tears when Wesler and Blake had produced more images than the media had access to, some more indecent than others, but they’d chosen well, because Dean could remember that more explicit photos must exist. Castiel had just held him tightly until the pain ebbed away. 

Now they were waiting while the officers arranged a line up. Their car had led them away from the house earlier without much drama, but Cas knew that it wouldn’t be long before a swarm of media stormed their home. And right now, the station was surrounded, as was to be expected for such a high profile case. Normally, they’d have use of a waiting area, but unfortunately the glass windows there had been clocked by the press, and they’d been advised to stay back from them to avoid detection. 

So in the corridor they waited, shuffling numb asses on the wooden chairs, trying to distract from all the negative, painful thoughts that insisted on cycling round their minds. 

At the end of the hall, a door opened, and Cas only glanced up as he heard footsteps coming through it. His husband stayed put with his head in his hands, that is, until he felt Castiel go rigid at his side. 

Through the door walked a man in an orange jumpsuit. He was caucasian, around sixty years old, with a long, upturned nose, thick lips, and dark blue eyes. He was clean shaven and grey, and the sight of him made Castiel’s blood boil. Cas stood, with fury in his eyes, and his feet started to carry him down the hall, with every intention of flooring the pervert that had hurt his husband.

The officer behind the prisoner had, by this point, realised his mistake and was ushering the man back, but Cas was quicker. Or, he would have been quicker, if someone hadn’t pulled on the back of his shirt and stopped him in his tracks. 

Cas glanced back at his husband, who was watching him with a warning in his eyes. He didn’t have to speak, his expression said it all, so Cas moved his gaze back to the man who’d caused his husband pain and glared until he’d been taken away. He didn’t know what was more disconcerting, the fragility of their justice, or the lack of remorse in that asshole’s eyes. After the door had closed, Cas watched it for a few more moments, until Dean tugged on his shirt again and nodded back towards the chairs. 

They didn’t speak for a long moment while they gathered their thoughts, and Cas used the time to really look at Dean, who was stronger now than he ever had been. His husband wasn’t crying or screaming or panicking. He was sitting still, fidgeting only with his fingers, taking slow, deep breaths and staring calmly at the floor. The man who’d suffered from panic attacks for years, who’d once developed aversions to nudity and sex and intimacy because of his experiences, who had just come face to face with his attacker, was still coping. 

The realisation that Dean was actually ok in this hit Castiel harder than he’d have thought it would. As he came to terms with his admiration for his husband, it dawned on him that Dean had been (mostly) well for a while now. That aside from his blip when he’d found out about Adam, Dean had been strong and stable and healed for the best part of the last year. 

The more he thought about it, and the more he thought about justifying his delays in starting their family too, the more he realised that it wasn’t for Dean’s benefit, it was for his own. That maybe he was the one that wasn’t emotionally ready. 

After all, it hadn’t been Dean that had just gone to hurtle down the corridor and land a punch on someone’s cheek. It hadn’t been Dean that insisted they wait to start their family for an unspecified amount of time until it felt right. It hadn’t been Dean that had so little self-worth that he’d been sure he was being cheated on. It hadn’t been Dean that had been lying awake at night for weeks. It had been him. 

It wasn’t difficult to understand why this had happened. It was a no brainer that Cas was always going to put Dean’s mental health above his own, because he was the one that needed the help urgently. But he’d had it now, the help, and he’d healed with it. The holes they were left with weren’t in Dean’s heart, but Castiel’s. His resounding guilt and regret weighed so heavily on him, and he realised slowly that he was traumatised by the things his husband had been through.

Whether Dean was thinking the same thing, or he could just tell from Castiel’s eyes what he was thinking, Cas didn’t know. But his husband took his hand in his own and offered him a small, sad smile as he caught his eye. “Are you ok?” Dean asked steadily. 

Castiel shook his head. “No.” 

 

*

 

Dean had picked out the strange man from the line up in a matter of seconds. The face had been imprinted on his mind for so many years that he couldn’t forget it, even though it had changed with age. They’d congratulated his bravery and told him the strange man’s name — Alistair — and they’d shown him the pile of evidence they’d gathered, called the case irrefutable and thanked him for nailing down the guy’s coffin. The media and the help of the general public, as it turned out, had solved it for them. Being liked by the entire country had its benefits. 

It didn’t feel good, or even bittersweet. Just numb. Dean didn’t feel much pleasure from the fact that they’d caught him. He _was_ pleased, sure, that the asshole was off the streets and that no more children would be subjected to his will (as he’d learned he’d been far from alone) and it was nice that he’d finally got a small piece of justice, but it changed nothing, and yet he'd still had to drag through it all again. It hurt less and less every time but he didn't think the pain would ever completely disappear. And now he knew he wasn't alone in hurting. Dean was worried about how quiet his husband was being. 

He’d known deep down that one day all of the pain and heartbreak would catch up on Castiel. Cas had always had a tendency to be sensitive, which wasn’t a bad thing, but as he healed he’d become more aware of how hard Cas took things, how responsible he felt, and recently they’d been taking one hit after another. 

It had been the things that Cas said that had made him realise his husband was struggling too. He’d twigged that things were escalating when Castiel had worried he was cheating, but he’d thought with his reassurances and his confession that he’d placated that particular concern. He’d worried again a few weeks ago, when Cas had told him about his upcoming gay scene and he’d admitted how insecure he was. And now that he’d finally confessed that he was not, in fact, ok, Dean was more concerned than ever, desperate for a chance to get home and wrap him in his arms. 

But getting home was proving more difficult that it perhaps should have. 

“Why are you turning left here?” Castiel asked, and Crowley turned around from his seat next to the driver to explain. 

“Change of plans.” He began. “Too many reporters at the house. Naomi has booked you into a hotel.” 

Great. Just great. It was already pretty late, 22.30pm according to the clock, and Dean had been looking forward a couple of the German import beers he’d ordered, then lying on their blissful memory foam mattress, and holding Cas close until they were asleep. He needed this day to be over already and this was gunna drag it out even more. Plus they had nothing with them, so he’d have to use one of those stupid travel toothbrushes rather than his fancy electric one. 

Maybe he had got too used to the celebrity life. Should probably dial that back a bit. 

It took another thirty minutes to escape the following press and pull up outside a hotel. Dean squashed the thought that Naomi could have done better as he looked up at the facade of the perhaps once impressive building, because he was getting a bit too carried away with having money and luxuries. The hotel in front of them was still a far cry from the tiny one bedroomed apartment he’d been living in until three years ago, so yeah, just a bit carried away. 

Another ten, and they’d taken the elevator up to their room on the top floor. It wasn’t a fancy suite or a penthouse, but it had a bed with a reasonably comfortable mattress and a lock on the door to afford them the privacy they so desperately needed, so that was really all that mattered. 

They each used the bathroom in turn and in silence, and it was only once they’d both climbed into bed that Castiel spoke. 

“I’m proud of how well you’ve handled all this.” He said quietly, and Dean met his eyes with a smile on his lips. He wasn’t sure if Cas was inviting a discussion as to how well _he_ had handled it but that’s the route he was going to take things if his husband didn’t do it himself. “I’m glad they’ve caught him.” 

“Me too.” Dean agreed. 

“I need to confess something.” Castiel said then, voice barely louder than a whisper. He looked guilty and there was a light blush on his cheeks. Dean left his smile in place, and gave a slight nod to show him it was ok to carry on. “You’re better than I thought you were.” Cas said. 

“You’re not holding us back at all. You’re well and you’ve healed and I know that you’ll always have bad days, who doesn’t? But you’ve proved me wrong in the last few weeks.” Castiel went on, and Dean could see his lip starting to wobble and hear the light shake in his voice, so his hand automatically tangled in Castiel’s own. “You’re not holding us back. I am.” 

Dean’s heart was hurting for his husband, because he could see how much pain he was in and what the realisation was doing to his confidence. He let his smile beam brightly and shuffled even closer, pressing their foreheads together. “It’s alright, Cas, it is.” 

“I didn’t realise until today how much all this has affected me. I think I’ve just tried to be strong for you for so long and… it’s worn me down. Because I feel so guilty about everything. And I didn’t figure it out, in my mind I’ve been using you as an excuse but, it’s me that isn’t ready for a family.” Cas had started to cry, and it made him feel even guiltier. “I feel so selfish, because you’ve been through so much. I don’t deserve to feel like this, to have these issues… but—”

“—Don’t be an idiot, Cas.” Dean interjected. “You have as much right to feel like this as I do. The physical injuries might have been mine but we've been through all of the other crap together. And I get it. I know how I’d feel if someone had hurt you. I still feel so guilty that _I_ hurt you.” 

Cas chewed on his lip, because his response was lost when Dean pressed in to kiss him gently. Dean stroked his cheek, still smiling, as he peppered kisses over his forehead, and he felt Cas break under him. He wrapped him tightly in his arms while his husband cried, and when his sobs had subsided, he pulled back to look into his loving eyes. 

“I guess it's just everything, and I always wish my mom was still there just to talk to.” Cas choked, brushing a tear from his cheek.

“Cas, maybe you could do with some help. We’ve both been through so much in the last few years. Hell, in our whole damn lives. You’re not alone, and you don’t have to fight.” Dean said gently, and although Cas looked away, he sighed and rubbed his cheeks. “The therapy has really helped me, and you’re nowhere near as broken as I was.” He smiled. 

Castiel let out a small scoff, and shot his husband a look. It was hard to believe that this was Dean talking, when his husband had always been such a stubborn fighter himself. But he had a point, and maybe with just a little help they could finally both be well. “Yeah, ok.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't update tomorrow or Friday so I thought I'd let you have this chapter a little early. The next one won't be up until Monday though I'm afraid!


	17. I’ll Be Your Friend, I’ll Help You Carry On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just humour me, I wrote these chapters months ago. You'll see what I'm getting at.

Lean on me, when you're not strong.

**And I'll be your friend,**

**I'll help you carry on.**

For it won't be long,

'Til I'm gonna need, 

Somebody to lean on.

 

The flight out from Kansas had been arranged for late in the evening, because Jess had been working the day shift. By the time that the plane carrying his brother and sister-in-law would have landed, Dean was curled on the sofa, an arm wrapped around Castiel, who’d fallen asleep against his husband. The TV was on, but he didn't know, or care, what was playing, because all he could do was stare at the man he was so hopelessly in love with as he finally rested. 

With everything that had been going on, neither of them had chanced to go back to work yet. It had only been a week since Alistair had been arrested, and their emotions were still raw. Dean’s nights had been fitful, his sleep disturbed, but he knew he wasn’t alone in lying awake at night and it was bothering him so much that Castiel was so low.

They’d spent their days alone together, and in fact, they’d only really left the house when Cas had his first therapy session with Dr Nygard two days ago. It had been the doctor that had suggested they spend time with family and friends rather than confine themselves, and so Dean had called Sam that evening to arrange their coming this weekend. It had been a fair few weeks now since they’d seen each other, after all, and Dean had been looking forward to spending time with Lily now that the prospect of a family of their own was on the horizon (even if right now that horizon felt very far away).

Some twenty minutes passed while Dean let his heart and mind relax and clutched his husband close, until eventually, the intercom buzzed. He gently manoeuvred to the side, letting Castiel’s back rest against the arm of the couch, and pulled himself up to answer and open the gate. 

He greeted his brother and sister-in-law, and their over tired daughter with tight hugs as they arrived, and wrapped his arms around Charlie too, when they’d stepped to the side. The car had picked her up on the route back from the airport and Dean was as pleased to see her as he was the other three. It felt good to be all back together again. His family here to boost them up like always. 

Dean led them back through to the living room, where Castiel was still sound asleep on one of the couches, curled up in its corner. They were lucky, once again, that Castiel had so much in the way of money, because the room was more than big enough for the three sofas inside it, laid out in a U-shape around the large flat screen TV. So the four adults split themselves between the unoccupied couches as they got themselves comfortable, Sam holding his tired daughter on his lap, and they sat that way while the small talk dried up.

“He’s exhausted.” Dean informed them a few moments later with a gesture to Castiel, and they didn’t question the fact. It was probably his way of broaching the conversation, because he needed them to know that they’d been struggling without being too blatant about the subject.

“How are you holding up?” Sam asked following a pause, and at Dean’s side, Jess offered out a hand and squeezed his fingers in support. 

Dean sighed, because he didn’t really know what to say other than the bitter truth, and it all needed to be out in the open. The true stuff, anyway, the media had said enough on their own. “It’s been tough.” He began slowly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake his still sleeping, blissfully unaware husband. “It's not exactly been easy for me. And it still hurts, you know? But it’s not... it’s not just me… Cas has taken it all really hard. I think everything that’s happened to us is finally catching up to him. We’ve both been through a lot, but I’ve had help and he hasn’t. I mean… that’s kinda why you’re here… he’s started therapy too. I know he’ll be alright, that he just needs some time and support, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying about him.” 

“He's been fighting for a long time.” Jess said softly, looking over at her old friend, who, in the innocence of sleep, looked nothing like the Hollywood star he'd become. 

“You know as well as anyone that the first step to recovery is admitting you need help.” Charlie’s calm voice was only just loud enough to hear and Dean shot her a grateful smile. He'd known his family would understand, that spending time with them was exactly what they needed right now. He had to heal his husband, preferably within Naomi’s scheduled time frame (he had to go back to work in a couple of weeks, and Comic-Con was only around the corner), but he would settle for any time —next year even— if it meant Cas got the help he needed and made his way back to him in a healthy way. 

“I know.” Dean smiled, a sad, but hopeful smile. “He just needs us right now.”

“We’ll always be here.” Sam looked back at his brother fondly, but Dean’s eyes were all on Castiel. His sleeping husband looked to be stirring, despite their hushed voices. His eyelashes fluttered where’d they'd been resting on the plush grey couch, and he shuffled slowly back, wrinkling his nose. A moment went by in silence, where they wondered if they'd got away with it, but after a brief second the actor sat up, and his eyes flickered open. 

It took a moment for the scene in front of him to sink in. Dean watched Castiel’s features as he slowly realised they had guests, as his grumpy, just-woken-up expression turned into one of surprise and relief that they'd somehow come in without his waking up. The actor smiled, a bright, genuine smile that Dean wished he wore more often. He loved how it made his eyes light up and he loved how it hid the darkness inside of him. 

Charlie smiled as Castiel got to his feet and stretched out his tired limbs, ambling over to the couch she was lounging on and bending to wrap her in a lazy, tired hug with a muffled greeting. He turned his attentions next to Sam, but since Lily was flat out across her father’s lap he settled on a quiet hello, before turning around to welcome Jess, and eventually squeezing onto the couch next to Dean and curling up with his husband, a happy hum escaping his lips at the kisses Dean tickled his temple with. 

For a while they chatted, about anything and everything. They spoke at length about the new Star Wars script, which, yeah, was one of the industry's biggest damn secrets but Cas was powerless to his family’s prying and actually he just loved joining in the fanboy hype for a change, theorising about the future of the saga like he and Dean would when they were just kids. 

When Lily stirred a moment later, wriggling herself more comfortably into Sam’s arms, Castiel’s eyes lit up at the sight of the little girl, and Dean watched as his husband stared longingly at her. The desire, love, and need in his eyes was warming Dean’s heart, and it was reassuring to feel that, even if it would take time, they still wanted the same things. 

Dean made the mistake then of tearing his eyes off of his husband, and he met the gaze instead of his best friend. Charlie was watching him with a knowing look, and he was immediately taken back to the conversation they'd had after Red Nose Day. He knew Charlie was just waiting for the go ahead, that she would get things underway the minute they said they were ready. 

He watched then, as Charlie’s eyes met his husband’s, but what he hadn't expected to see was the shy, grateful smile that crept across Castiel’s lips. Maybe the horizon wasn't as far away as he thought.

 

*

 

After making arrangements the following afternoon to leave Lily with a sitter (Jo, the young blonde who worked as a chef in Castiel’s kitchen had been more than happy to oblige), the five adults had made dinner plans, which Dean felt was definitely a good thing. They needed to get out of the house and get back to normal. Following a long discussion that Jess had initiated regarding _just how fancy_ the restaurant was, because she was of course concerned with whether to borrow one of Charlie’s nicer dresses or wear the tea dress she’d packed in her bag, they’d eventually pulled on their shirts and slacks and slipped into the back of a Bentley that was waiting to take them to downtown LA.  

It felt nice, when Dean rolled down the blacked out window just enough to let the fresh air wash into the car. The warm breeze was definitely worth the glare Charlie shot him because her hair had blown into her face. He’d let out a happy laugh at the sight of it, and she’d eventually let him off with a roll of her eyes while Cas watched the exchange with a broad smile. 

They’d sat down in the restaurant then with happy chatter about the ins and outs of life, and Dean felt a bit coy when he noticed Sam and Jess looking at the menu (or more likely, its outrageous prices), with raised eyebrows and flushed cheeks. Obviously Dean or Castiel would be picking up the bill, so they didn’t need to worry, but he didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable either. He told them as much, trying to get them to relax about it, but he probably only succeeded in making Sam feel inadequate. The bottles of champagne he then ordered to make up for it made matters worse, too, but Sam forgot all about it when Jess nudged him and they started sipping from their glasses. 

It wasn’t like Sam and Jess had it tough. They had it pretty damned good, in fact, with Sam’s more than fair wage from his law firm, Jess’s nurses salary, and their mortgage free family home. That and the fact that Dean and Castiel often gifted them with extravagant, expensive things for birthdays and Christmas. They didn’t really want for anything, but it still wouldn’t compare to the ridiculous bank balances they could only imagine. 

Dean could remember the first time he’d seen Castiel’s finances. His jaw had dropped open, because it had surpassed his wildest expectation, and he’d gone all weird for an afternoon until Cas had taken him upstairs and fucked him until he forgot about it. 

When Dean glanced next to him, he caught his husband’s eyes lingering around the salad selection. He was still a firm believer that salads made no one happy, and although the women in his life (and his husband to some extent) insisted he should eat more vegetables, they hadn’t succeeded in guilting him into ordering one yet. With a point of his finger, Dean highlighted the chateaubriand for two to his husband, and although Cas rolled his eyes, he had a happy smirk on his lips when he looked up and Dean was pleased that the matter was settled. 

They were halfway through their dessert when they were interrupted. Dean casually spooned a mouthful of cherry pie between his lips, and he was still chewing when Cas looked up, sending a smile behind his head. Dean turned to meet the eyes of Chris Pratt, and he let a grin ghost his lips while he attempted to swallow too soon. They’d gotten to know him pretty well through their mutual friend Jennifer Lawrence, and he was a regular guest at dinners and parties. 

“Hey.” Cas grinned, smirking with the quickest glance at his husband who was struggling to get his pie down so he could talk. 

“Hey guys.” Chris greeted with a returned smile. “Anna and I have just eaten, great food.” He commented. He looked up and met the eyes of the others. Charlie, he knew from parties and he greeted her by name, his eyes narrowing curiously at the sight of Sam and Jess. “Dean, is this your brother? Sam, right? So you must be Jess?” He asked. 

Sam looked thoroughly taken aback that Chris knew his name, and his eyes widened, lips pursing closed as he just stared, starstruck at the man in front of him. Dean smirked, because he apparently wasn’t the only one that couldn’t play it cool, and he could tease his brother about this for years to come. 

“Yes, it’s lovely to meet you.” Jess chimed in, saving face. Sam shot her a grateful smile while Jess winked at him. 

“It’s great to finally meet you guys too.” Chris went on. “Are you going out for drinks later? We could meet you somewhere?” 

Dean shot a glance at Castiel, because he didn’t want to push his husband too far, but he needn’t have worried, because Cas was nodding and smiling already. 

“Yeah, great.” Cas nodded. 

A few moments later, after Chris and his wife had left the restaurant, and Sam had just about recovered his ability to talk, they all started laughing. 

“Are we seriously going for drinks with Chris Pratt?” Jess looked astonished. 

“Oh come on, that’s hardly the coolest thing you’ve ever done. I mean just think about how many celebrities were at our wedding.” Dean grinned in response. 

“Dean, in our defence, Lily was what, two months old? We were sleep deprived.” Sam laughed. “Plus I was so nervous about that fucking speech that I’ve blanked out that entire day.” 

At Dean’s side, Castiel was laughing a genuine, happy laugh, and Dean couldn’t help but join in, it was so contagious. He wished they were always this happy. 

“And I couldn’t drink anything.” Jess reminded them. “So yeah, going for drinks with Andy Dwyer is more or less the coolest thing we’ve done.” 

“Do me a favour.” Dean beamed, holding in a laugh. “Call him Chris to his face.” 

The comment just earned an eye roll from his sister-in-law, but Cas was smirking, so he classed that as a win. 

“You guys should move up here.” Charlie said suddenly. “You could join the celebrity club, do all sorts of cool things.” 

Sam and Jess exchanged a quick look, and for a moment Dean actually allowed himself to hope they would accept. He’d love them to live closer, but he’d never considered they might actually want to. 

“We did talk about it.” Sam said after a long, slightly tense pause. “We’d love to live nearer to you all. Maybe one day we will. But we want Lily to be brought up away from the spotlight. You can already google her name and find pictures of us when we’ve come to visit. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, I just don’t want her to have that extra pressure on her…” 

It wasn’t like his brother had made the comment without thinking, but Dean couldn’t help but feel the sting of the words. He knew Castiel had felt it too, where his husband was now staring thoughtfully at the table. It wasn’t something he’d paid much attention to, the thought of the press attention their future children would get. They’d be constantly plagued, he knew, worse than they were at the moment. What the hell would the pressure do to them, when they were already crippled by it? 

Ever the perceptive one, Jess seemed to notice the sudden change in atmosphere, and Dean didn’t know if she nudged her husband under the table but Sam abruptly stopped talking and looked at her with a furrowed brow. 

“It’s completely possible, if you do it right.” Charlie said, interrupting the awkward silence. Dean just felt more uncomfortable, if possible, because it felt to him that Charlie had made it obvious that they’d started to think about a family, and now Sam had gone bright red with the realisation, and Cas was looking anywhere but at any of their faces. 

“I’m sure it would be.” Jess hurried to agree and change the subject. “So, what bar shall we go to?” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably could have trawled the internet to find a couple to substitute Chris Pratt and Anna Farris for but omg effort, and I loved them and they seemed to fit the bill perfectly until well, they didn't!! 
> 
> Not sure if the next update will be Wednesday or Thursday, super busy this week so we'll see, but yeah, sorry this is a bit shorter than usual!


	18. Save Me from My Rocking Boat, I Just Want to Stay Afloat

Come on, come on,

**Save me from my rocking boat,**

**I just wanna stay afloat,**

I'm all alone.

And I hope someone’s gonna take me home,

Somewhere I can rest my soul,

I need to know you won't let go.

 

If the slight change in atmosphere hadn’t dampened Castiel’s mood, then the way the press were hovering outside the restaurant waiting for them to leave would have. As they stood to leave Cas caught Kevin’s eye, and the security guard’s look told him everything. The maître d’ helped them into their jackets while Cas glanced at his husband, who’d seen the look on Kevin’s face too, but smiled despite the obvious apprehension in his eyes. 

When Castiel wasn’t in the best spirits, the last thing he wanted to deal with was a bunch of reporters with their cameras and microphones looking for a scoop. He’d have much rather hidden his face away under a jacket as he dashed to the car or let Kevin bundle him away in stealth mode. But his husband was one for battling through. His acknowledgement of the press and refusal to deny a smile or a few words was part of his appeal. Castiel often wondered how the attention didn’t  get to Dean more, when he himself found it so frequently irritating. Maybe it was the difference of seven years of dealing with them. Maybe in a few years time, Dean’s attitude would be different. Particularly if they had a child to keep private. 

But right now they didn’t, and even though Cas shot Dean a reluctant look, his husband returned him a supportive smile, reached for his hand and gestured towards the door. It would be the first time the press had spotted them since Alistair’s arrest, and Cas knew Dean wanted — _needed —_ to look strong. Kevin went ahead of them, and they exited the restaurant to a sea of flashing lights that barely took them by surprise. They were used to being blinded. 

While Dean shot shy smiles at the press (Cas wondered if he felt worthy of their attention even now), Cas kept his eyes on his husband, putting one foot gracefully in front of the other as they made their way into the car. The man was a true wonder. How Dean could come through six long weeks of turmoil, and still come out of it smiling was beyond him. He deserved some sort of medal for his heroic response to all his trauma. He knew inside he was hurting too, it was obvious to anyone that knew him, but he was battling confidently forward. Cas just wished he knew how he did it, but he made a resolution to himself to try.

Climbing into the Bentley after them, Sam and Jess looked almost flattered by the press attention. Cas remembered the first time the media had noticed him. How foreign it had seemed, how much he’d craved their approval. And now here he was, the best part of ten years down the line, wishing they’d just leave him alone.

Next to him, Dean shot him a smile, and Cas couldn’t help but return it because he was so head-over-heels in love. Dean pulled his cell out of his pocket when it beeped, and he fired up the text that Chris Pratt had sent him with the details of the bar he and Anna were waiting for them at. Dean yelled the instruction up to the driver, and the car started slowly moving, parting the sea of the press. 

The journey was short, only a few blocks away. They could have walked, really, and if it wasn’t for the press everywhere they probably would have done. 

The car came to a stop outside a bar that was nothing special to look at on the outside, but it held a special place in Castiel’s heart, because it was here that he had brought Dean during the mechanic’s first visit to LA. It was here that they’d kissed, and here that Castiel’s hope for their future had been renewed. Castiel chanced a glance at his husband, and Dean was staring up at the place with a familiarity in his eyes, like he was thinking the same thing Cas was. He looked down, eyes meeting Castiel’s, and he beamed. 

Cas climbed out of the Bentley when the driver held open the door, but rather than standing and waiting for Dean like usual, he turned and offered a hand, which Dean took with a bemused smile. Even just acting like everything was ok made things feel more like they were. He softly pulled, and his husband lifted up to stand in front of him, so close that he could feel Dean’s breath on his cheek, and it made his skin tingle. Cas tried to stop the blood that rushed into his cock, but he was way too far gone for Dean, and when his husband smiled brightly, looking so goddamn fucking beautiful, Cas turned and crossed one leg in front of the other. He hadn’t really been in the mood for sex this last couple of weeks, so it had been a while since he’d got any, he reasoned. 

They made their way inside the bar in a bit of a hurry, in case any reporters had followed them this far. Heads turned in Dean and Castiel’s direction as they made their way through the bar to the VIP lounge at the back. Whether it was the conviction in their walk or the speed that they crossed the bar, Cas was unsure, but they made it through uninterrupted. The bouncer stepped easily aside, and Dean ushered his brother and sister-in-law through with them. They looked somewhere between embarrassed and overjoyed at being allowed access. 

The lounge was busy, being a Saturday night in Hollywood, but it wasn’t all that difficult to spot Chris and Anna on a table in the corner. They all greeted each other politely, making introductions while Sam failed once again to play it cool, but Dean didn’t sit down, not yet, instead, he gestured to the bar and explained he’d pick up drinks for them all. Chris stood then too, with the intention of accompanying Dean, and the two men walked off together. 

“When are you starting the shoot, Castiel?” Anna asked, just a conversation starter. 

“Start of August. I guess that’s only about a month away… but we’ve got Comic-Con between now and then.” Cas did the mental calculation quickly, and tried not to let the fact overwhelm him. The thought of going back to shooting was a bit intimidating when he was feeling so low. Particularly given how much of an ass he’d been while shooting the last movie. He had to change the subject. “Who’s looking after Jack tonight?” He asked, referring to the couple’s super cute young son. 

“He’s with a sitter.” Anna explained. She looked like she was about to ask more questions, but before she could open her mouth, Charlie interrupted whatever train of thought she was having. 

“You took him to your premiere recently, right?” The red head said confidently, and Anna nodded. “We’re trying to convince Sam and Jess here that they could move up, but they're worried about the attention their daughter would get.” 

“Oh.” Anna smiled. “Yeah, well, it’s one of those things. I think we all worry about it. Like, I’m just trying my best. I’ll never know if I’m doing the right thing, but I just think as long as he’s happy then we’re doing ok.” 

Castiel had the distinct impression that the question had not in fact been asked for Sam and Jess’s benefit. The fact that Charlie hadn’t taken her eyes off him the entire time Anna was speaking was his first clue, and the pointed look he received when Anna had paused was his second. 

“Some people do manage to keep their kids private, but it’s the way of the business, isn’t it? I just feel if I’m honest about it from the start with him then hopefully he’ll grow up knowing how to handle it.” She went on. “But it’s not always easy, I’m sure Castiel can back me up on that.” 

Cas nodded. “Yeah, it’s definitely _not_ always easy.” 

 

*

 

Meanwhile, Dean had made his way up to the bar, and he was now stood waiting for his order, exchanging smalltalk with Chris. He’d always found the guy to be pleasant and cheerful, and he didn’t have a bad word to say about him. 

“So, uh, how are you doing?” Chris asked suddenly a moment later, and the question took Dean aback, because he hadn’t expected the meaning that was laced in his tone. And, he didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t know how well he was doing, couldn’t figure out how he was feeling or what he was thinking. His thoughts had been so permanently on his husband’s wellbeing that he hadn’t allowed much time to think about himself. Was he ok? 

“Uh… I dunno really.” Dean began with a sharp inhale. Talking about it to someone completely removed who he trusted was probably exactly what he needed. “I think I’m ok. I mean it’s not been easy, and I wish it would stop getting dragged up all the time. I didn’t really want anyone to know about _that_ part of it, either.” He admitted. 

At that moment their drinks arrived, and Dean took a long sip of his champagne while Chris eyed him carefully. “But I can’t do anything about it. It’s happened, it all happened. I’ve just got to accept it and move on.” 

“You’ve got good support, though.” Chris commented. “Your family seem great, and Castiel loves you so much.” 

Dean smiled, a sad smile full of meaning. “Yeah. Cas has taken it really hard though.” The statement had Chris’s eyebrows rising, and he watched Dean curiously until he continued. “I know I’ve been through a lot, but he’s been through it with me. And I’ve been in counselling and he hasn’t. He just needs some time.” 

“That can’t be easy, if you’re not feeling the best yourself.” 

After another gulp of champagne, Dean ran his hand through his hair. “We’re getting by. I just, I don’t know how to act around him. I don’t know whether I need to be more careful or act normal or…” He trailed off with a shrug. 

“Act normal.” Chris said, with conviction in his voice. “He’ll appreciate it, I promise you. Just keep going as you usually do, but be there if he needs to talk.” 

“Thanks. I’ll try that.” 

“You’ve got a lot to be grateful for.” Chris pointed out. 

“Yeah. I do.” Dean let a smile take over his face and lift his eyes. “I’ve got Sam, Jess, their baby girl. I’ve got Charlie, the _best_ best friend anyone could ask for. I’ve got more money than we could ever need. A fucking awesome house, and the most amazing husband in the world.” 

Chris grinned. “Maybe you should remind him of the good things in life.” He said with a wink, and Dean winced at his suggestive tone, but grinned back despite the blush that crept across his cheeks. 

 

*

 

They’d been sat around the table talking for over an hour now, and they were several glasses of champagne later. Dean could feel the familiar buzz in his chest, fluttering across his vision and filling his heart with confidence. He was sat next to his husband, with an arm resting on his leg, Castiel’s arm around his shoulder. All Dean could think about was how much he wanted to remind Castiel of the _good things in life_ , as Chris had so aptly put it, and he trailed his hand higher on his husband’s leg, letting a finger rest gently just inside his thigh. 

He knew he’d hit the right spot to tease his husband when Cas squirmed uncomfortably at his side, but Dean kept his finger still until Cas had relaxed. He held it steady for a few moments, only moving it again when Cas had started talking (because he was going for all out asshole tonight), and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath between words. 

His husband wasn’t having any of it though, and clamped a hand down on top of his own, shooting him a dangerous look. 

“Right, come on.” Castiel said suddenly, just loud enough for everyone to hear over the music. At the confusion on Dean’s face he rolled his eyes. “You said you needed the bathroom, come on.” 

 _And fuck._ Now Dean had a boner too, because he definitely hadn’t mentioned the bathroom so he knew he was in for some fun. Or would have been, if Sam hadn’t stood up too and announced his intention to come with them. 

Castiel looked a bit surprised, because clearly he hadn’t expected it either, but he swallowed down his pride and led the way back through the bar, shooting a very pointed look at his husband behind Sam’s back as soon as he could. 

As they entered, Cas nudged Dean in the direction of a cubicle, so he did as he was told and shut the door behind him, thinking back to the last time he’d been in this cubicle, and the blow job he’d given his now husband before he’d even accepted he wasn’t straight. He’d still been with Lisa at that point, and he still felt a little guilty for having cheated, but there was never any way he was going to hold himself back around Castiel, god of all things sexual. He hadn't been able to even as a very confused, very threatened teenager.

As Dean palmed himself through his pants at the memory, he heard the urinals flush outside. After the sound of the faucets and the hand driers had ceased, he heard his husband talk, and he cringed a little as Cas explained to Sam that _Dean might be a while, I’ll wait for him, you go_ , but if it got his brother out of the way so he could be alone with his husband he’d take it. 

A few moments later and the handle on his cubicle turned, so Dean flicked the lock to allow Castiel inside. Cas shut and bolted the door behind him, and as soon as his hands were free again he closed the distance between them and crashed their mouths together, their lips meeting in a hot clash that had Dean moaning against him. Cas pulled their bodies flush, and the feel of Castiel’s hard cock pushing through his thin slacks and rubbing up against Dean’s own had Dean gasping for air. It had been too long since they’d had sex and he was aching for it. 

“Please.” Dean heard himself whisper, and as his reward Cas dived a hand down between them, loosening Dean’s belt and pushing inside his pants to grab at his cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs. Dean let out a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a groan, pushing his body up against the hand that was giving him pleasure while Cas licked and nipped at his jaw. 

“Fuck.” Dean called. “Please, baby, we gotta move this along, I won’t last.” 

Castiel's lips were wet and hot as they met Dean’s again, but he pulled his hand out to undo the button on Dean’s slacks as his answer, and let the fabric drop to pool at Dean’s ankles. He spun his husband gracelessly around, and pushed on his back until Dean got the memo and dropped to his knees, leaning over the toilet (lid down), with his ass presented for Castiel to do with what he pleased. Cas shimmied his own pants down too, getting down onto his bare knees and leaning over to chew on a chunk of Dean’s ass cheek with his teeth. 

In front of him, Dean wasn’t doing well at resisting his urge to cry out, his baser instincts overwhelming him. He did even worse, when Cas pushed his face between the cheeks and licked a line from his balls to his hole. And by the time that Cas had pushed his tongue inside and added a finger he was wailing, gripping the toilet seat so hard it would have broken if it were plastic. 

With every tease of tongue against his prostate Dean was sure he’d explode. How he hadn’t come all over the toilet yet he’d never know, he could feel it, his imminent release, coiled in his belly and waiting to pop. But his husband always knew when to stop, his timing perfected, and Dean was kept hovering on the edge while his hole was slicked up with spit and stretched out wide. 

He knew it was coming, because he heard Cas stroking himself before he felt him line up, and when he was filled all he could do was grunt, and try to push back for more. Cas held his hips steady as he began to move, and Dean was pleased that Cas was panting as hard as he was because this was all going to be over way too quickly if he kept up that beautifully fast rhythm. 

One of Castiel’s hands reached around for Dean’s cock, and he pumped in time with his thrusts. Dean was so done. He tried to choke the air in and hold back but he was coming before he could stop it, a string of unholy words slipping off his tongue as come pulsed out of him, caught in the tissue Cas had had the foresight to hold over the head. His back arched forward, but it just seemed to make the angle better for Cas, and his husband upped his pace, pounding forward without reserve as he bit his earlobe and fucked into his ass. 

“Oh god, fuck.” Cas moaned as he pulled almost all the way out and thrust in again. Dean was writhing by now, shaking with the overwhelming sensations of his hyperstimulated hole, and the cock that Cas kept stroking. 

Cas kept fucking him while Dean shivered, and his cock throbbed out the very last drop of his release as his husband continued to milk him. Cas was losing his rhythm though, getting so close to his orgasm that he was slipping, so Dean pulled off, spun quickly around (to the surprise of Castiel), and straddled his hips. He pushed his husband back until he was almost horizontal, back propped up on the door, and lifted up slightly, sitting back down, taking his whole cock back inside. Castiel’s eyebrows went sky high as Dean began to ride him, ignoring the unpleasant twitch his prostate was using as protest, and he angled right down, picking up pace as he bounced on his husband’s cock. 

With wide eyes Cas watched as his husband rode him, and Dean could see how close the actor was getting by how his mouth hung open and his breaths were shallow. He kept going, rocking on his cock until the movie star was struggling to drag the air in, and as his limbs started to shake, Dean spoke. “I love you, Castiel.” 

With a grunt out of his other half’s lips, Dean felt himself being filled. He kept riding forward and back as his husband shook out his release and gripped his hips so hard it would bruise. Dean kept moving while his husband’s cock pulsed inside of him, and he only stopped when Cas had caught his breath. 

‘I love you too, Dean.” Cas breathed. 

 

*

 

As they walked back out into the VIP lounge some five minutes later, Castiel was smirking, enjoying his post sex buzz and chuckling at Dean’s complaints about the mess he’d made, and how unfair it was that Cas never had to deal with _all that shit_ when they’d fucked.  

After they’d joined the table Charlie shot them a suspicious look with raised eyebrows, as if she knew exactly what they’d been up to, while Chris Pratt too shot them a particularly suggestive wink. Cas narrowed his eyes at his husband, much to Dean’s unashamed amusement, but took a seat regardless. 

They spent the rest of the evening getting drunker than any of them realised, and by the time they’d called it a night and had climbed into the back of their car, Dean’s head was spinning. He felt pleasantly peaceful, more so than he had in a long few weeks, and the way that his husband was leaning up against him and pressing hot, heavy kisses against the skin of his neck had him tingling from head to toe. Whether Cas had forgotten they had company or simply didn't care any more, Dean wouldn’t know, but he was of sound mind enough to cross his legs so that if anyone turned from the seat in front they wouldn’t notice the growing bulge in his groin. 

Regardless, Dean had to will his erection down when the car pulled up outside their home. When they’d got out of the car Castiel wrapped an arm around his waist, and the look they shared was one of connection. Cas looked better than he had in ages, emotionally stable, actually happy, and Dean couldn’t help but feel relieved. It was the first time he’d allowed himself to hope, to think _we can actually get over this_. 

Not long after they’d gone inside, Sam and Jess disappeared up to bed, their new-parent reduced alcohol tolerance meaning they were drunker than any of the others, and they stumbled their way upstairs in a fit of giggles while Dean, Castiel and Charlie watched, laughing their heads off at their lack of reserve. But Charlie it seemed wasn’t quite done with the night, and she took her two best friends by the hand and dragged them through to the bar, popping open another champagne bottle from their stock without asking. She was basically at home here, anyway. 

The red haired girl poured three sloppy glasses, splashing only a little over the rims and onto the counter, which Dean hastily wiped up with a napkin. He was quite attached to the bar, of all areas, and liked it kept clean. Cas shot him a smirk by way of teasing him, and Dean rolled his eyes and threw an arm around his husband’s shoulder, pressing his lips firmly against Castiel’s cheek, eliciting a chuckle and a happy hum. 

Charlie watched the exchange with an envious expression, and when Dean pulled his face away from nuzzling into Castiel to meet her eyes, she smiled. “I need a girlfriend.” She grinned, but she broke out in a fit of laughter only a moment later. “Or maybe just a _really_ good night, haven’t decided yet.”

Dean snorted out a laugh and nudged his best friend in the ribs. “Yeah, sorry, we weren’t the best wingmen tonight.” He apologised. “We’ll try harder next time.” 

“I’ll let you off, all things considered.” Charlie said with a roll of her eyes, but she was still beaming from ear to ear at the two men she just wanted to be happy. They paused for a moment in an amicable silence while all three of them sipped at their drinks. And when Dean met Charlie’s eyes again they wore a meaningful stare.  “What Sam was saying…about Lily and the press…” She began, a little awkwardly. 

Shuffling uncomfortably on his feet, Dean looked pointedly at the floor, aware that next to him, his husband didn’t seem to know where to look either. He didn’t really want it brought up right now, considering things were only just starting to get back on track. They couldn’t cope with another derailing considering everything they’d been through recently, and it had been a while since they’d discussed their future between themselves. 

“I don’t want you two being put off by it.” Charlie went on, oblivious to or regardless of Dean’s discomfort. “You will make great parents, and you’ll know what’s right for your family when the time comes. And even if you don’t, you’ve got enough advisers to figure it out.” She pointed out. 

Dean chewed his lip, because he knew she was right, knew that their team would get them through any challenges they might face.

“Look, no pressure, but just say the word when you’re ready.” She finished with a smile. 

What Dean hadn’t expected, was the way his husband looked up to meet her gaze with a confident smile, and the way he nodded, and said simply: “We will.” 


	19. I Need the Sun to Break

The work day had been a long one. When Castiel had been younger and imagined his future as a Hollywood star, he’d severely overestimated the amount of time he’d actually be able spend doing what he loved doing, acting. So much went in to pre and post production of movies that he’d never considered before he’d started doing it, and even now he sometimes had an internal eye roll at how many hours or days he’d spend working on things he hadn’t even started or had long since finished. Today had been one of those days. They were well into the pre-production for Star Wars now, the filming due to commence in August, and Cas had spent most of his afternoon bored out of his mind and desperate to get home and cuddle into the couch with Dean. 

In the evening, when he finally arrived back at their Beverly Hills mansion, he was a little surprised not to find Dean downstairs in front of the TV with a beer. He made his way up to their bedroom to get changed, praying his husband was in the bathroom, because if he wasn’t he’d have to hunt through the rest of the house to find him. 

Instead though, Castiel found his husband in bed. He narrowed his eyes as he approached, pulling off the shirt he had on with the intention of changing, and he glanced over to the clock. It was only 6pm, not late, and it was unusual for Dean to be napping in the day, considering he’d been sleeping alright (and Castiel knew, because he himself had been lying awake on the regular). Maybe he was just tired. He had an early start planned tomorrow. 

Castiel edged closer to the bed with growing confusion. In his sleep, Dean looked kind of sweaty, and he was curled up into the comforter more than he normally would be. Cas sat down on the bed, letting his back fall against the headboard as he stared down at his resting husband. And even though the memory foam mattress absorbed most of the movement, the slight wobble was enough that Dean stirred, his eyes flashing open as they took in the concerned face of his husband. 

“Hey.” Cas whispered softly, reaching out a hand to stroke Dean’s flushed cheek. His husband was really warm, and pretty clammy. Was he sick? He _looked_ sick.

Rather than answer, Dean let out a small, unhappy groan, and draped an arm gracelessly across Castiel’s lap. Cas ran his hand through the short lengths of Dean’s dark blonde hair while the other man sighed, and after a moment he wriggled himself lower, and pulled Dean’s head onto his chest. They lay in silence for a few minutes, and Castiel noticed how Dean’s eyes were rolling back in his head, how he was almost asleep again. 

“You look rough.” Cas commented, voice soft. Dean opened his eyes again at his husband’s words. 

“I feel like crap.” Dean croaked in response. “Started feeling weird at lunch. Came home and puked. Spent my afternoon between the bed and the bathroom.” 

Cas shot his husband a sympathetic look as he leant over to press a kiss into his hair. As Dean sighed slowly, Cas clutched him closer. He couldn’t remember the last time Dean had been sick. The man’s immune system was usually pretty good. Save for the odd common cold, Dean was luckier than most. He _could_ remember though, the last time he had been sick himself, and how he’d ended up admitted to hospital the first night Dean had come to live with him. Dean had taken good care of him ever since, and he vowed to do the same now. 

The thought reminded him of their early days, and he couldn’t help but lament. It had been agony, that first month or so of living together without being able to act on his desires. His self-consciousness and self-doubt eating him away inside. But he should have known. Looking back, it was obvious his love wasn’t one-sided. He’d never had to ask Dean to move in with him, all he’d done was ask him to stay. 

“Can I get you anything?” Castiel asked suddenly, and when Dean looked up in tired confusion, Cas repeated the question. 

“Just stay.”

It might only have been 6pm, but he hadn’t slept properly in weeks. Besides, when the look of Dean drifting off against his chest was so inviting, who was he to ignore the yawn that took hold of his lips? Castiel shuffled, but only enough to get his jeans pulled off, and he wrapped his husband in his arms with a smile as he let his eyes close. 

 

*

 

The sleep, however blissful, was short lasting. The red digital numbers shone out the time, now just gone 9pm, and Cas was opening his eyes to an empty space next to him. The door to the en-suite smashed close only a moment later, and through it Castiel could hear the sound of his poor husband heaving. 

He waited a few minutes, until the toilet had flushed, but when Dean failed to reemerge Cas went to investigate, and as he pushed open the door his eyes caught sight of his husband, collapsed down with his stomach against the cold floor tiles, panting and looking incredibly sorry for himself. He rushed to his side and knelt down next to him, brushing an unruly hair away from his husband’s forehead. 

“I feel so rough, Cas.” Dean said. His voice was cracking like he might burst into tears at any given moment, and Cas felt a rush of pity stirring in his gut. “Why did I have to get sick?” 

“Because you’re being strong for both of us.” Castiel said quietly. “Because you’ve been taking such good care of me.” 

As Castiel’s words sunk in, Dean smiled sadly, and offered out his hand, which Castiel took and squeezed tightly. “ _And_ you’ve probably not been looking after yourself properly.” Cas went on. 

“You’re more important.” Dean whispered in response. “I had to make sure you were ok.” 

Castiel scoffed. “I’m not more important, Dean.” He protested. “But I am ok, thanks to you. It’s just overwhelming sometimes.” 

“Yeah.” Dean sighed, and he wiped his clammy forehead with the back of his free hand, grimacing at the unpleasantly sweaty feeling. He opened his eyes again and looked up to meet his husband’s loving gaze. “Are you really ok?” He asked cautiously, as if he was afraid Castiel would crumble. 

“I am.” Cas smiled. “I’m getting better, anyway.” 

The small smile of relief that Dean allowed to lift his cheeks sent hope rushing through Castiel’s heart. He knew it hadn’t been easy for Dean to be the emotionally strong one for a change, particularly considering everything he’d been through in the last couple of months, but he had wondered if it had given Dean focus, if it were some distraction to take his mind off things. But Cas was a little worried his husband would crack soon, if he said he could stop. 

As a relieved sigh made its way past Dean’s lips Cas watched his husband visibly relax. “It’s so good to hear you say that.” Dean whispered, smiling. “You have no idea how worried I’ve been.” 

“If it’s anything like how worried I get about you then I’ve got a pretty good idea, actually.” Cas grinned, squeezing his husband’s hand. Dean smirked before he grimaced, free hand coming down to clutch at his griping stomach. He let out slow, deep breaths while the pain eased, and when it had passed he opened his eyes again to meet Castiel’s. 

“I should have run away with you while we had the chance.” Dean said a few long moments later, and Castiel was alarmed by the regret in his tone. He knew the added pressures had been weighing heavily on his husband. “Sometimes I’d kill for a couple of days off the grid.” 

A sad smile lifted Castiel’s lips in a fleeting moment, and he exhaled slowly. “I know you didn’t ask for this life.” He whispered. 

Dean’s expression changed instantly, and he scrambled to sit upright despite the dizziness in his head. “Cas, not this again. That’s not what I meant.” He rushed, watching as his husband bit down on his lip. “I just meant it would be nice to get away from it sometimes. Come on, you know I love our life when it’s going well. We do so much cool stuff. We’ve just had a lot of bad luck recently.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Cas breathed, although he was relieved and reassured, because his doubts had flared up then big time. He was still so lacking in confidence. Dean’s words got him thinking, though. They’d both been struggling in the last couple of months, so maybe some time away _was_ what they needed. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since that happy two weeks in the Seychelles. And ok, maybe they didn’t need to go _quite_ so far but going off the grid sounded more appealing than Cas would have imagined, and the more he thought about it the more he felt like it was the perfect move for them. He mentally flicked through his schedule. He had to go to work tomorrow, there was no doubt about that, but could he get away with skipping out on Friday? Most likely. And Monday he only had a promo shoot in the afternoon, that could certainly be rearranged, considering he had a whole day off on Tuesday. 

A smile took over his face as his imagination went wild. They could disappear anywhere, do anything. The more he thought about it the more taken he was with the idea. They could just go, get in the Impala and drive. They’d leave a note for Naomi, and let Sam, Jess and Charlie know they were just hiding for a few days, spend their time in a cabin in the woods or by a lake like the one they used to go to as kids. 

That last thought sent a shiver of realisation down his spine, because suddenly it was all he wanted in the world, to be back in that lake house with his now husband. Castiel stood without explanation, and Dean watched with curious eyes as he disappeared back into the bedroom, returning with his cell phone in hand a moment later, a new determination in his expression. 

“Then let’s run away.” Cas said simply, smiling. 

“What?” Dean’s eyebrows lifted in surprise and alarm, as if he thought Cas had finally gone mad. Or maybe he just thought he was so sick he was delirious and hearing things. 

“Why not?” Cas beamed. “Tomorrow evening. After I get back from work, let’s just run away for a few days. We can text Naomi to say we’re safe. But we should do it, just take a few days for ourselves.” 

“Really?” Dean asked, surprised at his husband’s spontaneity. “But where would we go?” 

“The lake house.” Castiel smiled, holding out his phone for Dean to see. “I’d forgotten about it if I’m honest, but Mom left it to me. It’s being used for vacation rentals but I’ve got access to the calendar and there’s no one there this week. Besides, I’m not even sure Naomi knows it exists. The press certainly don’t.” 

A broad smile lit up Dean’s face at the prospect and he nodded. “Ok.” He said simply. “Let’s do it.” 

“Yeah?” Cas beamed, almost surprised. 

“Yeah.” Dean breathed. “But tomorrow. Right now, I need to hurl again, and then try to get some sleep. I need to get better so I can actually leave this bedroom.” 

A happy laugh escaped Castiel’s lips and he nodded, slipping out of the bathroom to allow Dean to vomit in peace. When Dean finally came out a few noisy minutes later, sweating and shaking, Cas cradled him in his arms. He still looked terrible, still looked really sick and in need of a shower, but there was a new brightness in his eyes and a permanent smile on his lips as he fell asleep. 

 

*

 

It was like being thrown back into the past, when they finally got out of the Impala in the early hours of Saturday morning, stretching tired limbs and yawning. They’d set off on Thursday evening. It had been exhilarating, sneaking out, leaving just a note for Naomi, and they’d driven until they were too tired to carry on, so slept for a few hours in the car before waking up and resuming the drive, cutting their way across the country throughout the following day and into the night. 

Luckily, Dean’s condition had improved, and he hadn’t vomited since the early hours of Thursday morning. Cas might have had to put a rain check on their spontaneous trip if he’d still been throwing up every few hours. Better or not, though, he was left weak and tired, and so Cas had shouldered most of the driving, which Dean couldn’t help but feel guilty about. 

As they approached the lake house and let the front door swing open, it felt so strange. It was like another life, their childhood summers spent here. They crossed the threshold together and as they stepped into the living room and looked around their eyes suddenly connected, because it was a bit overwhelming really, the rush of memories and the emotions that came with it. 

Castiel broke their gaze as suddenly as it had begun, and before he’d even realised what was happening there were tears pitting in his eyes. His hands came up in surprise to rub them away, but Dean was already by his side and had wrapped an arm around his shoulder in support. He could see how weird being here was for his husband, when his mom wasn’t around any more. They’d always come to this place to be alone, just the three of them, but it had been fourteen years since they’d stepped foot inside, and it was the first time that Evelyn wasn’t with them. 

With a slow exhale Castiel gathered himself, and Dean kissed his temple while he straightened his breathing out. “It’s just —” Cas started, trying to explain. 

But Dean didn’t need an explanation. “—Yeah, Cas, I know.” 

 

**I need the sun to break,**

You've woken up my heart,

I'm shaking, all my luck could change.

Been in the dark for weeks,

And I've realized you're all I need, 

And I hope that I'm not too late.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, these chapters will get longer again soon!!


	20. If You Close Your Eyes, Does It Almost Feel like You’ve Been Here Before?

But if you close your eyes,  
 ****

Does it almost feel like,

Nothing changed at all?

**And if you close your eyes,**

**Does it almost feel like,**

**You've been here before?**

 

They’d woken up the following morning (more like noon, really) in a tangle of limbs. The bed was nowhere near as comfortable as Dean remembered, smaller, too. They’d slept in the bed they always had slept in, rather than take the master bedroom. That would always be Evelyn’s room, whether she was here or not. 

Dean stretched out his tired muscles when he’d rolled away from his husband, and Cas shot him a genuine, bright smile after his eyes had slowly opened. They chuckled, and Dean leant up to kiss him firmly. It was such a novelty to be completely alone. They lay for a few minutes in a peaceful, comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes with broad smiles. It was how they were always supposed to be. 

Without his conscious permission, Dean’s mind was rolling through their times here, their laughter, their friendship. Castiel was without a doubt the single best thing he’d ever had in his life, and the fact that he got to come back here again with him, that he got to spend every day with him, made his life perfect despite its many flaws. He recalled, clear as day, a morning he’d spent in this room with his best friend in the world, where he’d woken to find the young man staring at him with love in his eyes, where he’d bargained with himself, to let himself have a weekend of love and lust before hiding his emotions back inside. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” Dean whispered, an echo of their former life. 

Castiel might have been living in his memories too, because he quirked an eyebrow up and shot his husband a smile. It felt so bittersweet, the recollection. They had both been in so much pain, both so in love. 

Rather than answer, Cas pulled Dean back up, and pressed another deep kiss on his lips which was returned wholeheartedly. “I love you, Dean.” Cas said. 

They spent the day on the lake, as they did so many times as kids. They swam and lounged and splashed, and Dean would have paddled Castiel around on the boat like they used to had a hole not rotted through the wood on one end. It felt so good just to let go of all of their adult commitments and problems and just be themselves again. 

“Oh my god, cut it out.” Cas spluttered as Dean laughed. He’d just taken a face full of lake water his husband had lovingly sent his way, but he was chuckling anyway, with a forced eye roll just to prove a point. He narrowly avoided a repeat attack however, and just at the right moment he lunged forward to grab his husband by the waist and wrestle him under the water. 

It was Castiel’s turn to laugh then when Dean reemerged, wincing and spitting out water. “You deserved that.” Cas grinned. 

Dean put on his best pout, but they both knew it was a tease. Castiel let his eyes drift to Dean’s part-puckered lips and failed to resist them, pulling him in close with his hands still on his husband’s waist, and pressing a deep kiss against him. Dean gasped at the sudden contact, his mouth falling automatically open to welcome Castiel inside. He felt his cock filling inside his swim shorts, and as Cas’s hand drifted to his ass and pulled their bodies tightly together it only made it better, and a groan escaped him. 

When Castiel pulled suddenly back his eyes were dark, and Dean’s arousal kept building. His husband took his hand and tugged, and they waded back onto the pebbled shore of the lake, grabbing each other in another passionate kiss as soon as their feet were on dry land. Dean was, by this point, incredibly aroused, but the day wasn’t actually that warm and his wet skin erupted in gooseflesh as it was whipped by the cool breeze. Cas noticed him shiver, and they broke apart quickly to wrap their towels over their shoulders. 

By the time that Cas had gestured back towards the house and they’d shut themselves safely inside, Dean thought he might burst. His cock was painfully hard, and he had completely surrendered to Castiel’s control. His husband exuded a passion and heat that blew his mind, and when Cas licked further into him he pulled on his ass again, the friction of their cocks rubbing against each other, sending a twitch down Dean’s spine. 

It was all happening at once, as if Cas couldn’t decide what he wanted to do first. He was pushing Dean back, taking gentle steps to reach the couch, his mouth had left Dean’s and refocused on his jaw, his neck, his earlobe. His hands were on Dean’s waist, his hip, his ass. Cas gave a final push and Dean fell back against the couch, swiftly extending his legs out and swivelling his angle. Castiel wasted no time in straddling his husband, bending over him without hesitation and putting a hand between them to push their shorts down and free their cocks. 

A cry echoed around the room that Dean hadn’t realised he’d made when Cas took them both in hand and thrust forward. He recognised the desperate look in his husband’s eyes and he knew that the movie star had lost control too, couldn’t wait long enough to go through the meticulous prepping and careful stretching. Dean knew he wasn’t about to be fucked, but he needed this release quickly, as much as Castiel did. He found himself thrusting up into Castiel’s slow pumps, and his mouth hung open at the pleasure it released. Cas too, was watching him with wide, helpless eyes, and at Dean’s simple plea he picked up the speed of his hand. 

“You’re so perfect Dean.” Cas whispered between breaths, getting lost in the sensation of their cocks pressed together. He swiped a thumb over the heads, collecting precome and making Dean shudder under him, and he stroked it down their lengths, heightening the feel. 

The end was near, Dean knew. It had probably only been a couple of minutes but he was powerless to this man, and he knew it was ok that he was about to come. Castiel looked pretty close himself, with his flushed cheeks and desperate gaze. There was an underlying sense of love in Cas’s movements, so although Cas was jacking them off hard and fast Dean knew that he was safe and protected. The only words Dean could remember now were curse words and his husband’s name, and he repeated the string of his remaining vocabulary on loop as his release rushed near. 

With a sharp cry, Dean began to tremble, and Cas watched with lust filled eyes as one of the cocks in his hand throbbed, and Dean’s come poured out and over his stomach while his back arched and his hands desperately grabbled for purchase on the couch. 

Dean took a few deep breaths as the high receded, and he twitched when Cas let go of his cock to focus on his own. As much as he liked watching his husband get himself off, he felt like he had something to prove right now, and he swatted away Castiel’s hand in favour of his own, increasing the pressure even more and squeezing tightly as he pumped. 

It was Castiel’s turn to gasp, and Dean knew he wasn’t far behind. He rushed him ever closer with a few quick pumps before pushing up, unseating his husband as he pushed him onto his back and reversed their positions, kneeling over Cas’s knees instead of his hips as he leant his head in front of Castiel’s crotch. Cas sharply inhaled when Dean’s tongue lapped out at the head of his cock, and his husband continued to jack him off, now even quicker, and Dean knew he’d be coming any second by the way his hands were sinking into the arm of the couch behind his head. 

With every intention of blowing his husband Dean engulfed the head in his lips, but as he sank his tongue down into the slit Cas began to shudder, and his release shot to the back of Dean’s throat without warning. _Fuck, fuck, Jesus, fuck._ Dean could hear, and he smiled on Cas’s cock as he kept rubbing him through his aftershocks and swallowed down what he could, the rest pooling in a mess around the softening base. 

As soon as Cas was done Dean was pulled off, and quite clearly his husband didn’t care about the mess because he dragged Dean down on top of him, entering his mouth again with his tongue. Cas kissed him passionately for a few more minutes, and when they did eventually break apart they stared into each other’s eyes with love and completeness. 

“You’ll never be able to understand how much I love you.” Cas said, almost sad. Dean let out a little laugh, and pulled their foreheads together, looking up into his husband’s doting eyes from under his thick lashes. 

“I love you too.” 

 

*

 

The idea to spend the weekend here alone had been Castiel’s best ever. Dean felt so much better just for getting away from everything and everyone and spending time with Cas alone. He felt a bit guilty about smiling, but when he saw the forty missed calls from Naomi on his cell screen he couldn’t help it. It felt like he was a school kid breaking the rules by hiding from her, even if they did have to go back tomorrow. 

The time he’d been able to spend with Castiel this weekend had reassured him that his husband wasn’t quite so diabolically depressed as he had worried he was, although he knew it wasn’t that easy a fix, that there was still some work to be done on the mental health front for both of them. They’d spent all three of their days here joking and laughing and teasing each other, touching and cuddling and holding hands at any possible moment like they were still sixteen and trying to control their feelings. Their nights they’d spent talking, watching movies, fucking in front of the fire. It was bliss.

“I better call Naomi soon, get her to arrange the plane for tomorrow.” Cas said suddenly, interrupting Dean’s reverie. He took a long, deep breath, and his expression changed. “If you had the option, if you seriously had a choice, would you ever go back to LA?” 

Dean’s brow furrowed. “It’s our home.” He said simply. 

“You're not answering the question.” Cas sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. Dean frowned, and took Castiel’s hand in his own. 

“Aren’t I?” He asked, shifting his body so that he was facing his husband properly. “Cas, I don’t know if it’s what this is all about but you’ve got to stop feeling so guilty.” Dean inhaled slowly, and kept his eyes on his husband’s. “I get that we’re only famous because of you. And I know that you feel like this wasn’t what I wanted and maybe you think that makes me unhappy. But you’re wrong, baby. I like our life. I do. And have you ever stopped to think about how good it’s been for us?”

“I know it’s harder when things go to shit because everyone’s talking about it, but everyone talking about it and being sympathetic and supportive has helped a lot, too. Do you really think I’d have got this much better on my own? Or even just with you? I mean, for a start we’d never have been able to afford the quality of therapy we’re getting, but I’d have never been working with the non-profits or doing anything productive, and it’s really helped me, Cas, it has.” 

“And yes. Sometimes I wish we could stay here together forever, alone. Sometimes it gets a bit much and all I want is to run away with you. But not all the time, Cas. We’ve got everything we need, and everything we could ever want.” Dean finished, and took a deep breath. He’d surprised himself actually, he hadn’t realised how pent up that particular train of thought had been. His husband was looking at him almost in shock, rendered speechless, and after a long pause Dean smiled in reassurance. 

“Well, that’s a relief.” Cas stated a moment later, and Dean laughed. 

“You can forgive yourself now.” Dean suggested. “For everything.” 

But Castiel just scoffed, and Dean realised then just how deep his husband’s insecurities ran. “Cas, I’m being serious.” He said. “You need to let go of your guilt. All of it. I don’t think you’ve ever _needed_ my forgiveness but you’ve got it.” 

“It’s just… it’s not that easy, Dean.” Cas started, and Dean could tell it was difficult for him to bring up. “I left you there. I left you in Kansas with your dad when anything could have happened. And then when we made up I dragged you into the spotlight and you weren’t ready for it. I haven’t helped you, not really.”

Dean inhaled sharply, a little on edge and trying to formulate his words. He looked up to meet Castiel’s sad eyes, and he fixed on them. “Listen to me, Cas. You need to stop blaming yourself. For a start, you never left me. I left you. I broke your heart and I ran out on you —”

“—You had a good reason—” Castiel began to interject. 

“—That’s not the point.” Dean said determinedly, and his pointed stare told Castiel to shut his mouth. “You did nothing wrong. If you’d known you never would have left. But that’s part of the reason why I didn’t tell you. I needed you to be safe, Cas, and you were safest when you were a thousand miles away from me. From him. I know I was protecting you but there’s not a day goes by where it doesn’t eat me up inside, where I don’t remember the look on your face when I left, or at school afterwards.” Dean choked, and he was struggling to hold back tears that had welled out of nowhere. “So I know I can’t talk. I know you’ll never get over the guilt because I won’t either. But even though I could have handled it better I _know_ I did the right thing by letting you go and you know you did the right thing by leaving, so stop letting it hurt you. _Please,_ stop letting it hurt you.” 

“Have you stopped letting it hurt you?” Castiel countered, but his eyes had softened and there were tears on his cheeks to match Dean’s own. Dean shrugged, breathing out a long, slow breath as he let himself fall into his husband’s waiting embrace. 

“I’m trying, Cas.” He said quietly. The two men held each other for a long time, while Dean reminisced about the man he had been only a few years ago, and how much better a person he was now. Castiel had changed everything, and everything was good, now. He just had one last thing to get out in the open, one last little confession. 

“I wish I’d confessed to you sooner.” He began again. “I haven’t told you this, but I tried a few times.” 

Castiel pulled his head back to study Dean’s expression with surprise and confusion in his own eyes. “What do you mean?” He asked. 

“After my dad died.” Dean breathed. “I left his funeral. Walked out before the wake. I think everyone just thought I was upset because I’d lost him, but for the first time in my life I was free. And do you know what I did? I got in my car, still in my suit, and I drove to LA. Did the journey straight, no stopping. When I crossed the state border into California I started getting tired, and by the time I’d reached LA I was basically asleep behind the wheel ‘cause the adrenaline had worn off, so I pulled up at a motel. I’d lost my courage by the next morning, and I drove home because I never thought you’d forgive me, and it was still too raw to confess.” 

Castiel’s hands were covering his mouth and fresh tears were skating down his cheeks. 

“I wish I’d gone through with it. I wish I’d talked to you sooner. I feel guilty about that, too. It wasn’t the only time I tried, either. I drove down a lot. Each time thinking I was actually going to go through with it. I’ve always needed you. I needed my friend back.” 

“Why are you only just telling me this now?” Cas asked, but he wasn’t mad. He’d pulled Dean back in for another hug. 

“I guess I was embarrassed.” Dean admitted. “I thought you’d be pissed off if you realised I could have fixed this four years before I did.” 

“Dean, if you weren’t ready to confess the truth you would only have made things worse. I loved you, but I wasn’t about to be walked over. I was too messed up over you. We might have ended up having a huge fight. Even if you’d walked in and announced your love and we’d fallen into bed, the next day when I started asking questions you couldn’t answer it would have fallen apart. Things worked out the way they did for a reason, so please don’t feel guilty or embarrassed.” Castiel said eloquently, and Dean felt his heart boost at the realisation that Cas didn’t hate him for it. 

“I do feel guilty.” Cas went on. “And you’re right, I should stop letting it hurt me. It doesn’t help me and I know that things have turned out alright in the end. I feel better for just saying it out loud, to be honest. But it’s so hard not to regret everything.” 

“You did your best, Cas. You texted me every day through that spring break and you chased me down the corridor at school. You forced me into telling you I didn’t want to be friends even though it hurt me to lie to you, because you wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

“I only backed off at that point because I didn’t believe you. I knew you still wanted me, I just thought you were having some sort of homophobic panic.” 

“Well the fact that you have a dick and I’d fallen in love with you anyway didn’t make sense to me either, so you weren’t wrong.” Dean scoffed, but he was smiling. “But obviously, that wasn’t the only reason. And if you _had_ worked it out you’d have scared me off. I would have run as far away from you as I could get. It was my biggest fear, you finding out. I was terrified of it. You did exactly what I needed you to do. You were my only friend through the worst years of my life, so you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“I was only your friend because you kept coming over every day.” Castiel teased, because it was hurting to talk about all this and it felt better to distract himself with a joke. 

“Whatever. I remember you laughing when I pulled faces at you the first time we met.” Dean grinned, stealing a quick kiss from Castiel’s surprised lips. 

“I remember that.” Cas beamed at him when Dean pulled back. He smiled broadly, eyes lighting up in peace and happiness. Cas breathed out, long and slow, and eventually he swallowed, suddenly a little nervous. Dean eyed him curiously. “Look at us, talking about our emotions and actually getting somewhere.” Castiel laughed. “This has to be a first.” 

“And hopefully not the last.” Dean smiled. 

“We’re actually ok, aren’t we?” Castiel asked, voice careful. 

“We are.” Dean nodded, and that smile was as broad as ever as he kissed his husband once again. 

“Dean?” Cas said, still a little cautious. Dean furrowed his brow as he nodded. “If… if it’s still what you want… maybe soon… maybe in a few weeks or so… we could start talking to Charlie?” 

“Yeah.” Dean agreed, a little too quickly. “Maybe we should.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fair warning, I'm going on vacation next week (yay me) so the Monday chapter will be up as planned, but then there's going to be a bit of a hiatus until I can get the next chapter up. Hoping to have it up by the following Thursday but it will depend on how much I have to do when I return! 
> 
> It's worked out pretty well though, because things start to change in the chapter you'll get when I come back. You'll see what I mean!


	21. And Oh, I've Only Caused You Pain You Know

**And oh, I’ve only caused you pain, you know**   
****

With all of my words, always beloved,

Of all the lies spoke,

When you’re on my road walking me home,

Home, home, home, home

See the flames inside my eyes,

It burns so bright I wanna feel your love.

 

The funny thing about talking was that Dean couldn’t work out why he’d spent so many years avoiding it. Ever since they’d returned from the lake house (to face the irritation of Naomi), it seemed like he and Castiel had never been closer. He felt better, more at peace with himself and his past, and if the looks he was given were anything to go by, Castiel seemed to feel the same. 

Two more weeks passed by in a blur, their schedules a little fuller for the time they’d spent away together. But their routine wasn’t so dire as it used to seem, and their relationship felt stronger and healthier and they were both so much happier. He loved the sound of Castiel’s laugh, it was music to his ears, and recently he was being treated to many a symphony. 

Dean had spent his afternoon watching back promos for his newest ad campaign. They were heading down to San Diego the day after tomorrow for Comic Con (which he was so excited about, because he’d had an amazing time at his first ever one last year), and they had to attend the Hollywood premiere of Castiel’s new release tonight. His husband had been in promo mode for the last two weeks, attending back to back interviews and radio shows. Dean was glad he was in a better mind set than before, he’d worried earlier in the month that he might come across as cold because of his mood, but their trip away had fixed things up, and on screen Castiel looked as happy as he ever had done. 

He had just started checking the time again, because he knew Cas was supposed to be here by now, their schedule tonight was pretty tight and didn’t allow for lateness. But as it happened, as he pulled open the door to their walk-in closet the bedroom door swung open, and his husband rushed in, a flustered smile on his lips. 

“Interview overran.” Castiel explained as he started pulling off his pin-striped shirt. Dean tried not to look at his toned chest, because arousal could not be on his mind right now, there wasn’t enough time for getting worked up. He sucked in a breath instead of looking, when Cas took off his jeans and boxers and strutted, naked, into the shower. Dean had to resist a very strong urge to join him, and took a few deep breaths before continuing his search for that nice navy suit he’d planned on wearing. There were so many damned suits in their closet it was a nightmare to find a specific one. 

After five minutes or so, when he’d found both his own and Castiel’s matching one, he stripped off ready to change. Cas emerged from the bathroom with a towel hung low on his hips, and groaned at the sight before him, covering his face with his hands. “Dean I _cannot_ look at you naked right now, we’re already so late.”  

Dean smirked, and pulled clean boxers up over his cock even though he’d have rather asked Castiel to put it in his mouth. They were so happy recently, and it had meant one hell of a lot more action in the bedroom department. “There we go, not naked.” He laughed. 

His husband shot him a pained look, and paused for a long moment as if he was tempted to fuck him anyway, but sprung quickly into action when Dean shook his head and dragged his shirt on over his bare chest. They took another few minutes to change and for Cas to dry his hair off, but rather than rush out of the door like they really should have when they were ready to go, Cas grabbed his husband by the waist and planted a long, slow kiss on his lips. 

“Maybe we’ll be able to make time for a quickie somewhere after the movie?” Cas asked with a raised eyebrow, and Dean grinned.

“Do you think we’ll ever grow out of fucking in bathrooms?” He laughed. 

“Only when you stop enjoying it so damn much.” Castiel deadpanned in response, and Dean had to suck in a breath to stop his entire blood volume from flowing south. 

They climbed into the car a few minutes later, but it was still long enough that Castiel had had time to explain to Naomi on the phone that he was sorry they were running late but it _really_ wasn’t his fault this time. She hadn’t bought it, obviously, but he didn’t really care either. 

They’d been picked up by a limo today, because they were headed to the premiere so image was even more important than usual, but despite the huge amount of room in the back of the car Castiel poured in and squeezed as close to his husband as he could, tangling his fingers in between Dean’s with a smile. 

Castiel beamed so brightly as he looked into his husband’s eyes, and Dean felt his heart melting at the sight. “Dean?” Cas asked, his voice soft. The movie star sounded a little nervous. 

“Yeah?” Dean eyed him curiously. 

“I’ve been thinking.” Castiel stated, but he didn’t continue even when Dean paused to allow him to go on. 

“About…?” Dean prompted, a frown forming in his brow, mind running wild. 

“Maybe… maybe we could talk to Charlie tonight?” Castiel said, voice wobbling. 

Was it Christmas? Although right now Dean felt happier than he ever had at Christmas. Was this _really_ happening? Was Cas _really_ ready to start their family? 

“Cas… you… are you sure?” Dean was trying so hard not to get his hopes up but he was failing pretty miserably. His heart was beating a thousand times a minute and he wanted to shout with the excitement. He was a little nervous that Cas was rushing this, but he knew how much the therapy had helped him, and Castiel was in double figures with his sessions now, so who knew. He definitely wasn’t packing as much pent up hurt and trauma as Dean, and after their time in the lake house… Cas certainly seemed happier to him. 

“If you are.” Cas agreed, lips breaking into a smile at the sight of the huge one that had engulfed Dean’s face. Cas leant a little closer to his husband, and Dean just couldn’t resist him. He’d never been able to, but today he was somehow even more appealing than ever. He twisted his neck and pulled Castiel’s lips down in a kiss that Cas returned happily, although he did look a bit frustrated when they broke apart, and shuffled a little uncomfortably like the kiss was affecting him more than he was letting on. 

“I love you so much.” Dean whispered, and Cas beamed. 

“I love you too.” He smiled. 

They were getting close to the theatre now, and Dean had to talk about something else or he’d start telling everyone that would listen, and they had to hold their secret in for a bit longer. He thought about how to change the subject. 

“Are you nervous about the premiere?” Dean asked, rather than bringing up his desires. He knew that even as famous as he was, Cas sometimes still got a little anxious about stepping out onto the red carpet and being the centre of thousands of people’s attentions. 

Castiel shrugged. “A little.” 

“If it’s any consolation, I’m shitting myself. I hate the red carpet.” Dean said, but he was grinning all the same. Cas smiled at his husband’s honesty, and squeezed his hand. 

“Just make your way to the servers, champagne helps settle you in pretty quick.” Cas chuckled. 

“Then I’ll definitely look like your trophy wife.” Dean rolled his eyes, still laughing. “Standing awkwardly and downing champagne.” 

“Then sip it.” Cas grinned, nudging Dean in the ribs. “You always look confident in public, you’ll be fine.” 

“Look and feel are two different things.” Dean reminded his husband. He’d been to quite a few premieres by now, but nowhere near as many as Castiel. “But I know, it’s not like it’s my first time. At least now I know not to stare into the cameras.” 

“In hindsight I should have pre-warned you before that first premiere.” Cas laughed. “You got completely dazzled.” 

They paused for a moment as the car pulled up in front of the movie theatre, the red carpet beckoning. The sound of the waiting crowd desperate for a glimpse of the A-List couple was deafening even from inside the limousine. “You ready?” Cas asked, and Dean wondered if he was _just_ talking about the red carpet. 

“I’m always ready.” Dean laughed, but he had a knowing look in his eyes. Cas rolled his eyes as the door was opened and he stepped out of the car. 

 

*

 

If Dean’s going to be honest here, he didn’t really get the movie. Even though Castiel had spent the first half of the year talking about it, he still didn’t really understand what happened. Like why did the physicist even need to go to space in the first place? He wondered if half the people in the theatre were as confused as he was, or if he was just stupid. It wasn't like it was bad… he just didn’t really understand. Some of the more critically acclaimed stuff he found hard to follow. But seriously, did people say Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy was a good movie just because they didn’t get it? Or was it just him? Whatever, Cas had played his part well and the rumour was that he was going to be up for another Oscar for his performance, so who was Dean to complain? 

And anyway, here he was now, on the red carpet with a glass of champagne in his hand, standing a little awkwardly now his conversation with one of the producers of the movie had come to an abrupt end. He’d definitely answered a question wrong, but the trouble was, he didn’t know which one. The producer caught eyes with someone else and headed swiftly away from Dean, leaving him briefly alone. 

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me Ellen was going to be here?” Came an irritable, high voice from behind him a moment later. Dean span around to meet his best friend’s eyes, and laughed. 

“Sorry, Charlie.” He said, but there was a bright smile on his face despite the apology. He recalled the bad place he’d been in the night Charlie and Ellen Page had met. “Are things between you two _really_ that weird?” 

“Of course things are weird.” She muttered in annoyance. “We slept together and I never called.” 

“And why didn’t you call, again?” Dean asked. 

“There was just no spark.” Charlie shrugged, and she rolled her eyes when Dean smirked. “It’s alright for you, Mr Married-to-the-most-perfect-man-ever.” 

Dean snorted. “Damn straight it’s alright for me.” 

“No one said anything about straight.” Charlie teased, and Dean’s response died on his tongue as the most perfect man ever approached him, threw an arm around his waist and pulled him close. Dean could hear Charlie whispering a quick, _speak of the devil_ , but as he lost himself in Castiel’s eyes he completely zoned out, focused only on the man he’d loved his whole life. He didn’t even hear the _get a room, you two_ , that Charlie muttered as she stalked off, because he was too busy letting his heart race with anticipation as he leant close to his husband and their lips met gently. 

They were barely even aware of the reporters or the other people around them, and their kiss was long and slow and deep. It would have been hard not to notice the flashing cameras, though, and Dean knew that the press went wild for it when they displayed their affection. The snapping bright lights shone through his closed eyelids, a colourful display to echo the crackling sparks in his throbbing heart and the fluttering butterflies in his stomach. 

When they did finally pull away, Castiel leant into Dean’s ear, covering his mouth with a hand to avoid his lips being read. “I hope we can sneak off soon.” He whispered. 

Dean snorted, quite aware that his cheeks were flushing a deep red and because of it, trying to avoid the sight of the cameras. He met his husband’s bright eyes and grinned as his answer. He didn’t want to attempt to formulate words right now, his mind was fully focused on not getting a boner while on the red carpet.  

He watched as Castiel let his eyes drift over his shoulder. He watched as his husband’s bright smile faded instantly, as Castiel’s eyes widened and lips parted in shock and in horror. 

The sight of his husband’s instantly changed expression made him reluctant to look behind him, but as he went to turn regardless, Cas snapped his hand out to grab Dean’s, and pulled, dragging Dean’s eyes back to him. “We need to move. Now.” Cas demanded.

“What? What’s going on?” Dean asked, and he looked back over his shoulder in alarm, but he couldn’t see anything of concern, and Cas was tugging on his hand, ushering him into motion. “Cas!” Dean protested, but he was letting his legs follow his husband anyway. 

“Dean?” A voice called from behind them, and at his side Castiel came to an abrupt stop. His panic and distress was obvious from here, and even before Dean had turned to meet the owner of the voice he had noticed how his husband was shaking. 

When Dean turned, and came face to face for the second time with his long lost brother, the breath was knocked out of him. 

“Can we talk?” Adam was now only two feet or so in front of him, but his younger brother looked so confident even despite the sharp inhale of breath he drew in. Dean felt his husband go immeasurably tense at his side and he had to resist an urge to step in front of him, as if Adam posed them some sort of threat. He chanced a glance at Castiel, who met his eyes with a hint of hesitation, but gave the slightest nod, his permission or acceptance. 

“Yeah, ok.” Dean said, his voice steadier than he could have hoped. He stood upright, strong and stoic, and he flexed his hands by his side. 

“Not here.” Castiel sighed, looking around at the press, and he nodded his head in a gesture towards the theatre. The three men made their way slowly inside, and snuck away from everyone else, down a darkened corridor and into an empty theatre room. 

“I need to apologise to you, for how I behaved.” Adam wasted no time in launching into their talk as soon as they were in private. “I said some things to you that I’m not proud of. It’s not an excuse, but it was hard to hear and it upset me. I knew who you were… and I didn’t think dad was like that. I know I probably made things worse for you… I didn’t mean to. So I’m sorry. I know that none of it, of this, was your fault. It was all his.” 

An apology was hardly what Dean had been expecting, he’d braced himself for a showdown, for accusations and anger, so he was a bit taken aback by the sincerity in his brother’s tone. “Thank you, Adam.” He said after a long pause, and he sucked in air slowly, a little confused. He could feel Castiel at his side, still tense with anger and frustration. His husband hadn’t bought it, he could tell. Cas was as pissed off as ever. 

“And I want you to know, I didn’t mean to blow your secret, either. I admit, I didn’t even know it _was_ a secret.” Adam sighed, and he rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. “I didn’t keep up with it all, this celebrity stuff, at least not before. I mean, I knew the basics, but I didn’t know the details. It’s not like I was expecting to ever meet you — I’m just a normal guy — let alone have you turn out to be my brother. But then, once you’d told them about me and they tracked me down, I wasn’t left alone. I was dumb enough to think this one reporter liked me. She was cute and about my age and she let me take her out for a drink. I bought the act, and I got drunk and all I did was repeat to her what you’d said to me. Needless to say I never saw her again. So yeah, I’m sorry, I am. But at least they caught the guy, right?” 

An awkward silence filled the room, because by this point Dean really had no idea what to say. His brother was a living reminder of his own inadequacies, and although it surely wasn’t his intention it made Dean feel like he was worth less than him, it made meeting his eyes more difficult, and to hear how careless he’d been smarted. Dean hadn’t ever been able to be careless. He’d spent his entire life on edge, hiding away painful truths. He’d only started to be honest in the last few years, and he’d needed so much help to trust anyone but Castiel. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say…” Adam went on. “Perhaps, did you want to grab a beer sometime?” 

And again, Dean said nothing, the silence filling the uncomfortable void with tension and making things weird. Castiel was breathing heavily at his side, and he knew that his husband was suffering through this, that this was upsetting him too. He cleared his throat. “To be honest Adam, I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” 

At least the younger man had the decency to leave gracefully after he was turned down like that. Dean took his number all the same, even if he couldn’t imagine ever using it, and gave him a small smile and a nod as he left the room to head back to the after party. Dean hadn’t even thrown any consideration into how he’d been allowed access. Adam was hardly famous, was he? He was hoping he wouldn’t have to see much more of him. Surely when the hype died down around this reveal they’d forget about him. _Please let them forget about him._  

As the door closed behind Adam, Cas let out a breath neither of them realised he’d been holding in, and he sat down heavily in one of the front row seats, letting his head fall into his hands. Dean watched him with concern, and he took the seat next to his husband after a long pause. 

“For fuck’s sake.” Cas muttered loudly after a while of silence. Dean turned his head, but Cas continued to stare at the floor, head in his hands. 

“Talk to me.” Dean said, but it was more of a question and a plea than a statement. 

Castiel sighed, his whole body shuddering with the exhale. He opened his mouth as if he was about to speak, but somehow he didn’t find the words. 

“It’s a good thing, Cas, he’s apologised.” Dean pointed out gently, although he hadn’t convinced himself it was a good thing because he suddenly felt a lot lower about it again. Maybe it was just the reminder, or maybe his brother just had a way of making him feel inferior. Either way, Dean felt more shitty about himself than he had done in the last couple of weeks.

“I just want all the bad things to go away. I just want to be able to be happy without people constantly reminding us of all the shit you’ve been through.” Cas complained, and at the break in his voice Dean realised his husband was crying, and he threw an arm over his shoulder and nuzzled his head into Castiel’s neck in support. 

“The shit that _we’ve_ been through.” Dean corrected him. “But it’s all wrapping itself up, Cas. It’ll be over soon, you know that.” 

“Will it?” Cas snapped irritably. “I keep thinking that, Dean. I keep thinking this is it, we’re finally going to be ok, and someone else comes along that fucks it up for us.” 

“Cas… we are ok, aren’t we?” Dean asked, but as he said it he realised it wasn’t true. He’d been stupid to think his husband would heal so quickly. True, he was on the right path, but he wasn’t yet in the right frame of mind, still having bad days to go along with his good. Dean kissed Castiel’s cheek rather than wait for him to answer, and his husband hummed out a sigh next to him, leaning into the touch. Dean took a deep breath before he spoke again. “We can’t talk to Charlie yet.” He said decisively, although it hurt like hell. 

Castiel sobbed a little harder at the realisation of his fears, but he nodded in agreement. “No, we can’t.” 

“One day soon, though.” Dean said, and Cas turned to meet his eyes with sadness in his own, only a small glimmer of hope shining through the sorrowful blue. 

“I’m trying, Dean.” Cas whispered, sounding guilty. 

“I know, Cas, and you’re succeeding. We just need more time is all.” Dean smiled, because he knew it was the truth, knew that his husband just needed a bit longer to get to the right place. “We’ll get out of this, I promise. We’ll win.” 

“I hope so.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it for about ten days sorry, I'm hoping to be able to get the next chapter up a day or so after I get back from vacation which will probably be on the Thursday? But it's a good place to pause because like I said before, things are going to start to change! 
> 
> See you when I get back!


	22. Those Rumours They Have Big Teeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thanks for your patience! Next update will be up again on Monday.

I whisper things, the city sings 'em back to you,

**All those rumours, they have big teeth**

Oh, they bite you.

 

The fact that it was now the end of July and they were no closer to starting their family than they were in mid-May was driving Dean wild. It had killed him to pull the plug the other night on their plan to start proceedings, but he was reassured it was the right call. Cas needed time, and it wasn’t fair to put that pressure on him. Dean personally had been feeling good about everything for a while now, long recovered from the initial shock of John’s betrayal. Sure, seeing Adam again had thrown him a bit, but he had quickly recovered, and was back on his healing path and feeling better than he ever had done. But still his husband was cautious and wary, having good days and bad. He couldn’t, and didn’t blame him, because he knew what it was like to be in a bad place, but he was becoming more and more impatient to start their family with every passing day, although it wasn’t something he could talk to anyone about. 

In the meantime, though, he’d made himself enjoy the perks of their celebrity lives, trying to make the most of the good things, while reassuring his husband that he _did_ in fact enjoy being rich and famous. He’d started spending more money on things he didn’t need, games and games consoles, a new sports car just for looking at (nothing would ever replace the Impala), and let himself live a bit more extravagantly than he had done before. He was starting to agree that the celebrity thing actually suited him now, and wasn’t just an inconvenient necessity of being married to a Hollywood movie star. His position on the A-list was starting to feel less foreign.

This weekend, for example, he was very much enjoying himself. They’d travelled down to San Diego for Comic-Con a few days ago, and his inner nerd had never had more fun. As he travelled through the aisles with Charlie at his side, VIP lanyards hanging from their necks, he was lost in a sea of like minded people, and it was so easy to forget that he was famous until someone stopped him for a photo and an autograph. He couldn't remember ever having such a good weekend, particularly when he combined the fun he was having in the day with the rather energetic and enthusiastic sex he’d been getting at night. Castiel had been fucking recently like each night was his last on earth, maybe it was determination to get better or a drive to act normal. Dean didn’t care which and he wasn’t complaining. 

Today Cas was to be on the panel for Star Wars, reprising the role he’d taken on two years ago ready for the next instalment. The three of them had strolled around in the morning, and even snuck in to a couple of extra panels (and no, they did not go into see Chris Pine talk about Star Trek _just_ so that Dean could stare at the man’s eyes, no matter how much Cas teased him). But now it was Castiel’s turn, so Dean and Charlie headed to the dressing room while he was getting ready, and Dean kissed him for luck as he took to the stage. They watched on the screen backstage as the actor and his colleagues talked, and there was an air of huge excitement in the room. It was one of the panels with the biggest turnout, of course, and the atmosphere was electric. 

After they'd finished the preliminary talks there was time for some audience questions. The returning cast from the original trilogy quite obviously had the most questions directed their way, but Cas had a couple of his own to answer too over the course of the session, which they were starting to wrap up. 

“This question is for Castiel, from Mr Chuck Shurley.” The speaker announced, and a bearded man with dark hair took to the podium. 

Chuck was older than Dean or Castiel by a fair amount, and there was a strange conviction in his eyes. Maybe it was that, that Dean noticed first, or maybe it was how obviously the guy was shaking with nerves. Either way, whatever Charlie had just joked about went unnoticed, and Dean found himself paying more attention than he had been to the way Chuck was staring at his husband. 

“Uh, Castiel.” The guy spoke with an unsteady voice. He cleared his throat before he spoke again, his eyes all on Cas. The camera changed, and Cas was eyeing this man curiously, with a vague hint of recognition. Dean wondered if they’d met before. 

“Do you know who your birth parents are? Because I think I’m your dad.” 

Dean was on his feet before the words had finished trailing from Chuck’s mouth. The audience had erupted in gasps and whispers, while on stage, Castiel had gone completely rigid, his eyes wide with shock, his muscles tense. Without further warning Dean watched as his husband stood and turned away, striding off stage. 

“We called you Jimmy.” Chuck shouted after him, security already restraining him as he flailed on the podium he was speaking from. 

At the call, Cas paused in his march, and Dean had already rounded the corner to meet him at the edge of the stage, so he caught the horror in his expression before it was quickly replaced by panic. 

What the fuck was happening? It had never been made public knowledge that Castiel had been adopted. Albeit, the secret wasn’t closely guarded, but no one seemed to care, and it had never been questioned before, at least not publicly. Cas had always accepted Evelyn as his mother even though biologically, she wasn’t, and he’d never needed more than that. Because of it, the press had never questioned it either. But now? Jesus, they were going to have a field day with this. This could _not_ get out.

Cas kept walking, striding forwards with conviction, and he was so focused on his steps that he walked straight past Dean, who had to stick a hand out to catch him and pulled him against his chest. Castiel looked up with surprise, and all Dean could read in his eyes was fear, confusion and distress. 

For a brief moment they shared a look of utter disbelief, but Dean came to his senses before everyone else around them did, his protective instincts kicking in full force as he grabbed Cas by the shoulder and ushered him back into motion, leading him quickly away from their worried gaggle of onlookers and into the dressing room. He locked the door behind them as soon as they were inside, and Cas just stood stock still, a deer in headlights. 

The tension in the air was palpable, and although Dean was staring at his husband, praying to anyone who’d listen for a clue on how he was feeling, Cas was looking blankly at the wall next to him, his eyes wide and panicked, hands pulsing in and out of fists with shock. Dean’s mind was running wild, so he had no idea what his poor husband must be thinking. That guy surely couldn’t have _actually_ been Cas’s dad, right? But how did he find out about his adoption? 

“He’s just some nut, Cas. He’s just a crazy fan.” Dean said, voice less steady than he’d have liked. 

“He… no.” Cas replied, voice barely louder than a whisper. Cas looked up and finally met his eyes, and it pained Dean to see the tears welling in his gaze. “He’s not. He… Dean I… I think he is. I think he’s my dad.” 

“What… what makes you think that?” Dean’s heart was pounding, his chest tight. He felt like Cas was a land mine about to explode, and he had to tread carefully to save both of their lives. 

“Jimmy.” Cas replied, and with the lone word he began to shake. Dean stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around his husband’s back, letting Cas’s head drop onto his shoulder. “Dean I never told anyone, and no one ever told me, but… I can remember it. I can remember them calling me that.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s him.” Dean breathed, but he was clutching at straws now, the ‘evidence’ piling against him, and in his heart he knew Cas believed it. There had been something familiar about Chuck’s eyes, about his stance and his cheekbones. He didn’t want to admit the similarities, but they were there. 

Dean clutched his husband tightly, chewing down on his lip with concern and panic of his own. He hadn’t spared a thought for Castiel’s birth parents for years and years, and he knew Cas hadn’t either. The timing though was appalling. It was always going to be difficult for Cas, if he ever met his birth parents, but this bombshell couldn’t have come at a worse time for them both. Castiel was still so damaged, still needed more support than he realised himself. The universe really was out to fuck them over at the minute. But, Dean supposed, better now than when they’ve got their own  children. Cas would need to be strong, and Dean knew this would be tearing him apart. He could hear Castiel’s ragged breathing against him, and it sent a shiver down his spine, the realisation that Cas was still just as fragile. 

“Breathe.” Dean whispered, feeling weird about the role reversal. He began to slowly exaggerate his breathing, setting a loud rhythm for Cas to follow, just as his husband had done for him so many times before. 

Castiel seemed to sense the irony too, and he let out a little chuckle as he struggled to calm down. “I don’t know what to do.” 

“I can’t tell you what to do.” Dean breathed, but his head was spinning, and he felt wary and angry towards Chuck for no validated reason. He was just concerned. Why does someone put their kid up for adoption in the first place? And why had his name been changed? It all felt a bit convoluted, and Dean instinctively knew that whatever the truth was it was bad. From his point of view, Evelyn wouldn’t have changed her young boy’s name unless he was at risk of being found, and why would it be a problem if he was found? It sounded dangerous and Dean was scared.

“It changes everything.” Castiel stated, and he pulled away from Dean and sat himself on the couch with his head in his hands. _Does it?_ Dean chewed on his lip as he took a seat next to his husband. He remained quiet, because he had no idea what to say.

“I never told you this.” Cas began again, and Dean braced himself automatically. “But when we were really young I was jealous of you.” 

Dean scoffed, his eyes narrow. “What? Why?” 

“Because you had two dads, and I wanted one.” Cas said flatly, and Dean knew he meant Bobby as well as John. If only the young Castiel had known the truth, he wouldn’t have been so jealous. “Obviously when we were older I didn’t feel so envious, but I always wanted a dad.” 

Dean turned to meet Castiel’s eyes, and he could see his husband was asking for permission. His heart raced, and he chewed down on his lip with worry. He knew his husband was seeing this as a good thing, and that scared him almost as much as the prospect of finding out why they’d been separated.

“Cas, I need to say something and you may not like it.” He began cautiously, and Cas kept his expression steady. “I know this might seem exciting, but you have to remember that if he is your dad, baby, he gave you up.” 

“I know that.” Cas was trying to keep his tone stable but Dean could hear its cracks. “But I also know that I’ll regret it if I don’t hear him out. I’ll always be wondering.” 

Resigned, Dean sighed and looked at his hands. He was panicked and wary, and all he could think was that this was a terrible idea that was sure to backfire. He hadn’t expected Castiel to want to get to know the guy, and he didn’t like the thought of having him in their life, particularly not now, when Cas was so vulnerable. He had a small nagging doubt at the back of his mind that perhaps this was the whole reason Chuck had decided to strike now. But, unfortunately, this wasn’t his call to make and he had to respect that. 

“You want me to get him?” He asked. He let out a long, slow breath when he glanced back at Castiel and saw him nod. “Ok.” He agreed, and he leant forward to take a quick kiss before standing. Cas watched him get up with anxious trepidation, but when Dean glanced back he nodded again, so Dean pulled the door open and slipped into the corridor. 

His plan to make a quick and subtle escape was foiled immediately by Naomi, who was hovering anxiously on the other side of the door. Dean’s eyes locked with her own, and her brow furrowed, because she could read him easily and his nerves and worries were obvious. Naomi led him a few steps away before she began speaking in hushed tones. 

“Is he ok? What has he said to you?” She asked. 

“He believes the guy is his father.” Dean replied, rubbing his face with his hands. “He wants to talk to him.” 

“What?!” Naomi did not look pleased. “Where’s the proof?! He could be any old crazy person. We can’t seriously take him on face value—”

“—He says he remembers being called Jimmy.”  Dean interrupted, and Naomi frowned, eyeing him carefully. “Has he ever told you that? Because he’s never told me, but he swears its true.” 

“He never mentioned that, no.” Naomi sighed. “But, well… that’s a little strange. Maybe this man _is_ his father. I was wondering after all… how could he have found out about his adoption in the first place?” 

“Yeah.” Dean shuffled uncomfortably. 

“And I suppose there _are_ similarities in the way they look, too.” Naomi went on, and Dean tried to breathe out his annoyance. It wasn’t her fault, he just wanted this over and done with so he could get back to his husband’s side. Naomi let out a ruffled sigh and looked him in the eye, reading him like she so often did so easily. “Go back to him, I’ll get this man Chuck brought in.” 

Dean nodded. “Thank you.” 

Castiel was silent when he slipped back into the dressing room, just gave a small smile as Dean sat down next to him. It was only when Dean shuffled as close as possible to him and snaked his arm over his shoulder that he finally spoke. “I’m ok, Dean.” 

And although Dean didn’t believe him, because neither of them had been truly _ok_ in well over a month, he looked him in the eye and nodded. 

They sat in a silence that Dean could only describe as tense in the minutes until Chuck arrived. Dean’s hand clutched his husband’s shoulder and he knew his palm was clammy, he was wiping the other off on his jeans, but Cas wasn’t paying attention to that. His husband was staring at the floor, tapping his toes awkwardly and chewing his lips. Dean was finding it unbearable, and he was seconds away from speaking when the door creeped slowly open, and both men looked up to watch Chuck be ushered in. 

As the door closed behind him their guest hovered anxiously, at Dean’s small gesture taking a seat on the couch opposite the Hollywood actor and his husband. Castiel looked up to meet the eyes of the man he believed to be his father, his expression defensive, his arms pulled tight across his chest. 

“Thank you for agreeing to see me.” Chuck began warily. “I’m sorry for doing that in public… but you’re not someone that’s easy to get in contact with, and I… I just needed you to know I was out there.”

Castiel swallowed, but didn’t speak. Dean let his hand slip to Castiel’s waist, and felt himself trying to edge even closer. His other hand was digging into the couch out of trepidation. 

“I’m so proud of who you’ve become.” Chuck said, and Dean tensed immeasurably, because he felt like the guy had no right to be proud when he’d played no part at all in his life. At his side, Cas straightened out, and Dean wondered if he was thinking similarly. 

“Why did you give me up?” Castiel asked, voice steady and full of anger. Dean glanced his way, but Cas was completely focused on Chuck, whose expression had morphed quickly into one of guilt. Dean didn’t know what it was about him, but he didn’t trust him at all. 

“I didn’t.” Chuck started, and Dean squeezed Castiel’s side before his husband could interrupt him. “You were taken from me.” 

Although he hadn’t known what to expect, Dean’s stomach churned with the realisation that his mistrust might be well placed. He knew from his experiences with charity work that kids didn’t get taken away from their parents without a hard fought battle, and immediately his thoughts turned sour. What if Cas had been as unlucky as he had, after all? Just too young to remember it? His worries were bubbling at the surface now and he couldn’t hold them in. 

“Why was he taken from you?” Dean asked abruptly, eyes full of anger. He’d made up his mind that he hated the man in front of them already, and he was having to stop himself from shaking with rage. 

Chuck looked at him as if surprised he was there, and Dean knew he hadn’t imagined that flash of defensiveness that crossed his expression. “I… ugh.” Chuck sighed, but Dean had the distinct impression that whatever was about to come out of his mouth was a lie. “It was your mom, Jimmy.” Dean felt his husband flinch at the use of the name, but he held his anger in. “She had a drug problem, and the judge couldn’t see past it. But we loved you. I loved you.” 

“Where is she now?” Cas asked, and at the question Dean knew his husband was falling for the bullshit this guy was spouting. 

With a light shake of his head, Chuck frowned. “She passed, Jimmy.” 

“That’s not his name.” Dean reminded him sternly, when Cas tensed at his side. 

“Yes, of course.” Chuck looked distressed, but Dean wasn’t buying the act. “I’m sorry, it’s just so hard.” 

Dean diverted his gaze back to his husband, who was looking at the floor and breathing raggedly once again. He knew that Cas would have taken that blow harder since Evelyn had died. He knew that he missed his mom more than he let on, because they’d always been so close, all each other had. And the reminder of death, of his biological mother’s death as well, would be stirring it all up inside. 

“Jim…uh… Castiel?” Chuck began again, and Dean looked back up at the man who was causing his husband pain. “You might want to know, you have a family. You have two brothers.” 

A soft scoff left Castiel’s lips, and he rubbed his face frantically with his hands. Dean could see how distressed he was, could see him careening towards a dangerous pain, and when Cas caught his eye he knew he wanted out. 

“I think that’s enough.” Dean said quietly, looking back over to Chuck whose face fell. 

“They’d both love to meet you.” Chuck continued, as if Dean hadn’t even spoken. 

“I don’t… I can’t…” Cas was struggling to find words to express himself, and so Dean stood, his body a barrier to protect his husband from the threat. 

“Jimmy, please, give me a chance.” Chuck pleaded, realising his time was about to be cut short. 

“That’s not… ugh. It’s not my name.” Cas said, but Dean was alarmed to realise he was telling himself that rather than addressing the room. 

“You need to go, now.” Dean said sternly, taking a step closer to the man with narrowed, angry eyes. Chuck stood, but made no more attempt to leave, staring Dean down like he was ready to take him on. _Let him._ Dean thought, because he was the younger one and he was sure to be fitter and more likely to win this fight. And fight he would. He’d die for Cas if he ever had to. 

But Chuck may not be so stupid and reckless as Dean, because he backed off, and Cas tugged on Dean’s shirt to stand him down. The man didn’t leave though, not yet. And Dean stayed standing although he did edge back closer to his husband. 

A tense moment passed, and Chuck sighed, dipping a hand into his pocket. Dean’s mind was running wild, and in his imagination the guy could have been grabbing for anything, a knife, a gun. Instead, he pulled out a strip of paper. 

“My phone number. If you change your mind.” He said, and Dean suddenly had a flash of realisation. It was obvious where Cas had got his acting talent from, because he almost believed Chuck was genuinely sad to be leaving. Almost. 

As soon as the door shut behind Chuck as he left, Dean felt his muscles relax. But as he turned and looked directly at his husband, Cas looked away, dropping his head into his hands as his tears began to flow with no hope of stopping. Dean had seen him get into some states, but this was something else. His husband curled his knees up close, and his whole body was shaking with his sobs. Dean took a seat next to him and all but threw his body against him, clutching him tightly in support and love and reassurance. 

The words escaping Castiel’s lips were killing him inside. “I’m not Jimmy. I’m not Jimmy. I’m _not_ Jimmy.”  

“No, Cas, you’re not. You’re not. You’re Castiel. Castiel Novak. Your mom was Evelyn Novak.” Dean whispered, internalising his own pain and fear. “You’re Castiel _Winchester-_ Novak.” 


	23. Tried to Keep You Close to Me But Life Got in Between

**Tried to keep you close to me,**

**But life got in between.**

Tried to square not being there,

But think that I should have been,

Hold back the river, let me look in your eyes.

 

The next few days that passed were harder than Dean could have imagined in even his worst nightmare. He’d known that his husband would take this hard, he’d known that it would be a struggle for Cas to accept that his biological family were out there, and he’d known that this couldn’t have come at a worse time for them both. He’d known all of this, but he still felt wildly unprepared for dealing with the state his husband had gotten into. 

Ever since the meeting with Chuck, Castiel had gone into hiding. At Naomi’s advice, they’d left Comic Con straight away, evading the eyes of eager reporters as they snuck into their car in an underground garage, and they’d headed home. It was a fairly short drive, only a couple of hours back to Beverly Hills, and as they’d left early the traffic was in their favour, but still, Cas said nothing throughout the entire journey, and as soon as they’d reached their hillside mansion, Castiel had gone straight up to bed as if on autopilot, and he’d remained there ever since, leaving only to use the bathroom. 

His state, basically catatonic, reminded Dean of how he’d been when Evelyn had died. It was complete torture, watching him tear himself up internally. His expression was blank the entire time, but Dean could see the struggle in his unseeing eyes, knew his mind was fighting an almighty battle. Dean was so worried, because this time he didn’t know if he could fix it. When Eve had died, they’d known it was coming and Dean had known that he would grieve and eventually he would get better. This whole thing had been a complete shock, and at a time when Castiel was already struggling. Dean was in agony, watching him. 

Castiel had barely eaten, had said only two words (both no) in the last three days, hadn’t showered and had hardly slept. He barely moved, and Dean had had to check on more than one occasion that he was in fact still breathing. Dean was beginning to believe that this was it, that his wonderful husband was irreparably broken, torn down by their years of torment. 

He had known it would be hard. He’d realised it the moment Chuck had opened his mouth. He’d seen it in Castiel’s eyes as he stormed off stage. But he hadn’t known how hard, and he had to do something or he would go mad himself. 

Dean had already tried calling Naomi. She’d been the one to get the movie star to come around after Eve’s death, and he’d hoped that their weird bond and mutual respect would get Cas to listen to her. But even when Naomi spoke it was like he couldn’t hear her, like the voices in his head fighting the internal battle were so loud he’d been deafened to the rest of the world. 

He was terrified. 

So it was with a slight shake in his hands on the fourth morning that he hit dial, called the therapist who’d helped him work through his shit, and asked for his help. The psychiatrist agreed, would arrive within the hour, and Dean spent the wait stroking his fingers through Castiel’s hair and shredding his lips with his teeth. 

“I just can’t get him to talk to me. I can’t even get him to move.” Dean was trying so hard not to cry as he explained the story to Dr Nygard when he joined them in their bedroom. He felt like a failure for having to invite the man to their home. He felt like he’d let Castiel down because he didn’t know what to do. “It’s like he’s not even here.” 

Nygard was an older man, with dark hair that had a few flashes of grey. He had a trimmed beard, intelligent eyes hidden behind thick rimmed glasses. The psychiatrist was eyeing his husband curiously, and tried calling Castiel’s name to see if he’d get a response. He didn’t. His attention turned back to Dean. “You said the last thing he said to you was ‘I’m not Jimmy?’” 

Dean nodded, and chewed his already sore lip while Nygard approached closer to the bed that Castiel lay on and Dean was kneeling in front of. 

“Jimmy?” Nygard called, eyes all on Castiel. 

It hurt like a train had hit him at a hundred miles an hour, when Castiel looked up to meet Nygard’s gaze. It was agony, when Castiel took a few deep breaths, and after a moment of confused glances, replied. “Yes?” 

The breath was knocked out of Dean by the realisation that his husband had lost sight of who he was, that whoever was talking right now wasn’t the man he was in love with, wasn’t his life long best friend and lover. Dean’s lungs turned iron, and he couldn’t force them open for anything. He’d let go of the husband he no longer recognised before he knew what he was doing, and he got to his feet without his legs asking permission from his brain. He’d stormed out before he could think about it at all, but no one tried to stop him and he collapsed at the top of the grand entrance staircase, landing on his knees with a thud and shaking out in fear and horror. 

How the fuck had things gone so badly wrong? Dean felt like his world was upside down, like he’d discovered that the only things he knew for sure, like Castiel would always be there and Castiel loved him unconditionally, were lies. 

Dean had zoned out so much himself that he hadn’t noticed Naomi running up the stairs to kneel at his side. His arms went out to her automatically as something familiar he could hold onto, and she clutched back at him even though she was alarmed and concerned. He let his head rest against her chest, and when he saw those black dots clouding his vision and his ears started making unusual sounds, he realised he still hadn’t breathed, and it took everything he had left but he sucked a slither of oxygen down that cleared his senses.

Naomi hadn’t been privy to many of his attacks in the past, but she knew how to get around them, and she whistled her own breathing pattern at a steady rate, grounding Dean and giving him something to focus on. She held him for a long time, until he was breathing steadily and her curiosity got the better of her. 

“What happened?” She asked. Her voice was small and Dean knew there was no pressure to answer, but he owed it to her to be honest. 

“I think we’ve lost him.” Dean said, voice cracking with tears that had started falling long ago. Naomi didn’t say anything in reply, so Dean elaborated. “He responded to Jimmy.” 

Naomi furrowed her brow, and pulled the mechanic-come-celebrity back against her chest. She had grown very fond of Dean over the years, and seeing him like this was affecting her more than she’d thought it would. It scared her, the thought that Castiel might have snapped. He wasn’t exactly as strong as Dean had always been, usually more sensitive and in tune with his emotions. He was more broken when she’d first met him, which she now realised was the fault of the mechanic she was now holding, but Castiel had been stable enough throughout the years that she’d known him, and he’d taken everything in his stride up until now. Was that all over? He’d been down for a while but they’d got him into therapy and he’d been improving, or so she thought. Was he having some sort of identity crisis? She hadn’t realised his adoption was an issue that bothered him. But then, maybe he didn't realise it either. 

She pulled back to meet Dean’s eyes, and she knew that he was thinking all the same things as her, only his paranoia and panic were exaggerating everything and sending him straight to worst case scenario. She lifted a hand to Dean’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “He’ll come around.” She said, but she wasn’t sure she believed herself. 

 

*

 

By the time that Nygard came back downstairs and went to leave, Dean had cried his way through a whole box of tissues. He hadn’t realised a person could cry so much, and it left him weak and exhausted. His mind was running completely wild with every possible disastrous outcome, and he felt entirely hopeless. Naomi had stayed with him, just sitting there in the room, and her presence was all the support he could get right now. He wanted his husband so badly. 

Dean was surprised to hear Castiel’s voice as the front door slammed shut. He turned, looking over his shoulder and into the hallway, where he could see Cas, or maybe Jimmy, shutting the door behind the therapist and taking a deep breath. He watched how his husband braced himself before looking up and straight into his eyes, and Dean couldn’t be sure what he wanted to do, his emotions were so mixed up. Did he want to run away crying? Or did he want to get down on his knees and beg him to come back?

Gently, Castiel made his way to the doorframe, and he hovered there anxiously, a look of guilt on his face that Dean couldn’t stand. 

“So you’re Jimmy now?” Dean snapped, and Naomi braced herself at his poor tact. He hadn’t meant for it to come out, but he couldn’t control it either. He needed to know whether his Castiel was still in there.  

Cas edged forward into the room, shooting a glance at Naomi before looking at the floor. He came through a few more steps and took a seat lightly on the couch next to Dean before he spoke. 

“I don’t know.” He admitted, and Dean could see how much courage it had taken him to be so honest. It broke his heart to see how messed up his husband was. “But I’m definitely Castiel.” 

At those last words Dean cracked, as he began to sob again his shoulders slumped, and Cas shuffled closer, wrapping his arms tightly around his back. “I love you, Dean.” Cas was whispering in reassurance. “I’m sorry I’ve put you through this.” 

“Don’t you ever do that to me again.” Dean sobbed as he clawed at his husband’s back and pulled him impossibly close, relishing in the kiss that Cas left in his hair. He pulled away just enough to bring their lips together, and they shared a messy wet kiss that reminded and reassured him how much he was loved. 

When Dean’s tears had dried up he pulled in a long breath and shot Naomi a relieved smile which she returned. He knew the manager had been worried too, no matter how confident she sounded. He turned back to his husband, because he knew they needed to talk, and it looked like Castiel had the words ready on his tongue, so he nodded. 

“Dean…” Cas began, and the uncertainty in his tone set the alarm bells in Dean’s mind ringing. “I know now what I have to do. I need to meet them.” 

“No.” Dean shook his head. He couldn’t think of a worse idea, and it wouldn’t help them get back on track even slightly. “No, you don’t. You don’t have to know them at all.” 

Castiel sighed. “I do, Dean. I have to know what I’m missing. I don’t expect you to understand but… it’s driving me crazy.” 

“Don’t you understand, Cas? You were taken from them for a reason.” Dean protested, voice rising a little with his panic and frustration. Naomi shot him a warning glance, and he took a deep breath to try and keep himself under control. He couldn’t afford to blow this, really, he couldn’t. 

“Yes, I know, but he explained what that reason was.” Cas looked unsure, like he was trying to justify this plan to himself as well as to the others. Naomi was just sat there, for a change not interfering or trying to control the situation. Maybe she didn’t know what to do, for once. 

“And you believe him?” Dean replied, exasperated. 

Cas rolled his eyes. “Dean, _please_. I get that this is hard, and that I’m not making it any easier, but baby, I _have_ to do this.” 

“Do you?” Dean spat irritably. “Why?” 

“Because like it or not they’re my family.” Castiel responded with equal frustration. 

 _But are they?_ Dean thought to himself. He couldn't believe Cas was falling for this. Hook, line, sinker. Family or not family, Cas was taken from them for a reason, and Dean didn’t believe it was just because one parent had an issue with substance abuse. All he could think was that Chuck was lying, that he was a terrible person, that he was out to get them and stop them from being happy. He thought about how Castiel had been over the past few days after meeting with Chuck for ten minutes or less. What would he be like if they met again and this went badly? He would prefer Castiel not to get involved, because then he couldn’t get hurt. Something about Chuck he just didn’t trust.

And he was thinking of himself, too. Dean was struggling again this last few days. While his husband had lain awake in his catatonic state Dean had barely slept for nightmares, but recently John’s face was replaced by Chuck’s. He was finally moving on from all his childhood trauma. Would going through Castiel’s with a fine toothed comb bring it all back to him? He couldn’t afford to relive it again, not when he’d nearly made peace with his past. 

The two men locked eyes for a long moment, and Dean could see that Cas was just as scared, confused, and vulnerable as he was. He wanted to voice his worries, fears, and doubts, talk his husband through all the reasons why he thought this was a terrible idea. But, he realised, maybe Castiel knew all of that. His husband wasn’t stupid. Maybe he just needed his support regardless, needed to prove it to himself, so that he could be sure of who he was.

It was such a bad idea, but he knew his husband was going through with it with or without his say so. Dean sighed, and squeezed his husband’s hand. “Ok.” 

 

*

 

 _Are you sure you want to do this_? Dean hadn’t even bothered to ask. He knew from the determination in his husband’s eyes as they boarded the plane that he was going through with this poorly thought out plan. He hated it. Hated that this was the way Castiel wanted to do things, hated that he had no say in the matter and that Cas wouldn’t listen even if he took the time to list all of the reasons why this was such an awful idea. He hated that Cas knew this was so potentially destructive but he was doing it anyway. 

Dean felt like he was about to have a coronary. He took his seat and strapped his buckle, not able to meet eyes with his husband, who was avoiding his gaze anyway. His chest was so tight, and he knew his breathing was ragged because of it. He’d spent the last six hours on the edge of another attack, but he’d not been able to do anything to prevent it. He knew that a hug would help, but he couldn’t bring himself to fall into Castiel’s arms when his husband seemed so unwilling to comfort him. 

He stayed still in his seat, his only fidgeting being the fingers that he tapped nervously on the arm rest. He knew he was shaking, and he knew his breathing was getting louder, that probably everyone else on the flight knew how he was feeling right now. He was sweating too, and he raised his hand to wipe his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt and grimaced. When he was already in a state, putting a plane in the mix was just a kick in the teeth. 

As the engine roared to life Dean heard a whimper escape his lips, and his hands fastened down tight on the arm rests. Something in Castiel snapped at that point, and Dean was so grateful when his arms came out to wrap around him, because the smell of him kept him grounded throughout the takeoff, and the kisses in his hair stopped the shaking and kept his lungs working. 

“I know this isn’t easy for you.” Cas whispered some time later, and he pressed a kiss into the side of Dean’s cheek. “And I know you’re worried, but I’ll be fine. Thank you for doing this for me.” 

All Dean could think was that his husband was being too confident, that he was sure to lose his footing and that they'd regret ever doing this. All he said, was: “It’s ok, Cas.” 

 

*

 

The house was exactly how Dean had imagined it being, and that scared him almost as much as the prospect of walking through the front door. The two cars rolled up the street and came to a gradual stop, and from within them the enhanced security team that both Dean and Naomi had insisted upon accompanying them emerged before they could get out themselves. Better that than let Chuck know where they lived, though.

Dean looked up at the two storey building, with its peeling pale blue paint and overgrown garden, and he didn’t fail to notice the empty beer cans littering the path. It was shaped similarly to the home he’d grown up in, and looked just as unkempt and uncared for. The sight turned his stomach, but Castiel seemed to see past the rough exterior, and after a nod from Kevin and Crowley, who were stood in position, the movie star began to take gentle steps along the path. Dean was just grateful that they’d managed to keep this so far under wraps, because he couldn’t imagine dealing with the press here, too. 

As his husband knocked on the flaking white front door, Dean shuffled uncomfortably at his side. He felt so defensive and protective, and when the door opened to reveal his husband’s father staring at them with a welcoming smile that Dean refused to believe was genuine, he nearly punched him in the face. 

But he didn’t, and instead, he put one arm in front of Castiel and spoke with absolute authority. “Ground rules.” He demanded, this little power trip coming out of nowhere. “His _name_ is Castiel, and you will not call him anything else. You do not touch him, you do not so much as lift a finger in his direction, without his say so.” 

At his side, Castiel sucked in a breath, which Dean wasn’t sure about. Was Cas pleased he’d said that, or had he pissed him off? It was probably crossing a line. 

“Ok.” Chuck agreed, meeting Dean’s fierce gaze with submission in his own. He took a step back to allow the Hollywood star and his husband across the threshold, and the inside of the house was just as poorly looked after as the exterior. Dean winced at the sight of the blemishes on the decorations — the scratched areas of wallpaper, the stains on the carpet — and he had to kick a can out of the way to avoid tripping over it, as he followed Chuck and his husband through to the living area. 

“I’m so glad you called.” Chuck beamed, and Dean knew exactly where Castiel’s acting talent had come from. The older man gestured to two men who were sitting on the couch looking bored, both in their mid twenties and looking nothing alike. The one on the left looked a little older, had darker hair than Dean but a little browner than Castiel’s raven-black. His thick eyebrows and strong jaw made him quite an attractive young man, but he looked alarmingly similar to how John Winchester had looked when he was younger, and it was that that made Dean hate him instantly. Chuck pointed at him first, and introduced him as Michael. 

The second man was sat with a computer on his lap, tapping furiously away at the keyboard. He looked even less like Chuck, and was a far cry from Castiel. He had dark blonde hair, a more rounded face, and puppy dog eyes that Dean didn’t trust one bit. He could see that as soon as this boy turned and his eyes narrowed, he’d be terrifying. Chuck introduced him as Luke, to which the boy scoffed, rolled his eyes, and corrected him. “I go by Lucifer.” He said, because apparently he didn’t just need to look like the devil incarnate, he had to take his name too. 

“Do you want something to drink?” Chuck asked politely, and Dean jumped in far too quickly with a rejection, until his husband elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Perhaps a coffee, please?” Castiel said in reply, a light, non-threatening smile on his lips. He turned to his husband. “Dean, are you sure you don’t want anything?” 

Dean was more concerned about the cleanliness of the mugs, but he sucked in a breath and took one for the team. “Ok, fine, a coffee as well, please.” 

It was difficult to know how to start a conversation with two people that were supposedly family, when Chuck left the room to get their drinks. Dean chanced a glance at his husband, who was shuffling nervously, and trying to come up with an icebreaker. 

“So, Michael, what do you do for work?” He asked conversationally, and Michael straightened out. 

“I work in management and human resources.” He said professionally, and Dean knew he was a dick from the way he wouldn’t just say HR. “I lead people. It’s very rewarding.” 

“Oh, that’s good.” Cas replied, although there was no enthusiasm in his tone. “Where do you do that?” 

Dean so wanted to laugh when the pompous asshole told them he was a manager at Wal-Mart, but he did hold it together with a bite of his bottom lip. 

“And how about you, Luke?” 

“Lucifer.” Dean corrected his husband, and the quip was so worth the glare Dean received from both Castiel and Luke himself for the comment. 

The devil incarnate looked up from his computer screen for only a few seconds. “I work with computers, obviously.”

“You say work.” Michael snapped irritably, and Dean could tell the two brothers didn’t have a good relationship. “But you’re a hacker, really.” 

“Well if people don’t want their personal information taken and sold on to people then they shouldn’t make it so easy to break into.” Luke protested, and Dean felt an uncomfortable sensation in his gut. 

“Is that not illegal?” He asked, to which Lucifer scoffed. 

“If you get caught.” He answered, a smirk on his lips that turned Dean’s stomach. “But enough about me. You’re famous.” He stated. 

“Uh… yeah.” Cas responded, a little confused at the sudden change in subject. Dean’s eyes narrowed automatically. 

“Do you like it? Do you get paid a ton?” Luke seemed a little too interested, and Dean pursed his lips together irritably. 

“Uh, yes, and yes?” Castiel didn’t know how to answer. 

“So… if you’re super rich and we’re brothers, and you _do_ owe me 25 years of birthday presents, then you can spot me a hundred bucks for tonight, right? I’m going out.” Lucifer asked, his eyes hopeful. 

Dean shot Castiel an irritated look, but his husband was too busy grappling in his pocket for his wallet to have noticed. Dean watched with disbelief as Cas pulled a couple of hundred dollar bills out and handed them to Luke with a shrug. He paused for a moment before pulling out an equal wad of cash for his other brother. Michael thanked him, while Luke just looked pleased with himself. 

“What car do you drive?” Luke asked, after he’d stuffed the money into his back pocket. 

“Uh, I don’t drive that often. I pay people to do it for me.” Castiel explained, badly. Dean glanced at his husband, who met his eyes and looked like he was asking for help. 

“I drive a classic Chevy Impala.” Dean said suddenly, realising he had to give these people the benefit of the doubt for Castiel’s sake. 

“Really? If I was famous I’d be driving a Ferrari.” Michael chimed in, looking thoroughly unimpressed with his nose upturned. Dean tensed, because insult him all you want, you do not insult his car and get away with it. 

“She’s a beautiful car.” He said irritably. “But if you must know, we do _own_ a few Ferraris, and a couple of Bentleys, and —” He only stopped talking because Cas had elbowed him and was shooting him a pointed look. 

They were saved from responding by the door opening, and Chuck coming back into the room with a tray of coffees for them all. Dean tried to meet Castiel’s eyes to gauge how well he thought this was going, because in his opinion it was a disaster. But Castiel was looking anywhere but at him, as if he knew exactly how Dean would react after finding out one brother was an asshole and one was a criminal.

“Thank you.” Castiel smiled as he accepted a mug and sipped at the beverage. Dean followed suit, trying not to frown. He’d gotten too used to proper coffee, not this terrible, instant stuff. And his mug was a little dirty, which bothered him more than he’d thought it would. 

“Did you boys make conversation?” Chuck asked his sons, and both Michael and Luke nodded with a roll of their eyes. 

“They did.” Cas confirmed, a look of hesitation in his eyes. He sucked in a breath, and looked directly at Dean for a heartbeat before he opened his mouth again. “I have to ask.” He said. “How did my mom die?” 

“She overdosed.” Came the response. Dean felt alarm bubbling at the surface at the way all three of them had answered in perfect synchronicity, professional and calm, as if the answer was practised. Why would they need to practise unless it was a lie? It didn’t sit well with him at all, but Castiel had fallen for it, was looking at the floor with a sad expression that made Dean want to hold him.

“You might think I’ve got no right to feel proud of you.” Chuck said suddenly, a suspicious change in subject. “I know I played no part in it. But I can’t help it when you’ve done so well for yourself.” 

Castiel smiled. “Thank you.” 

“You know, you got your talent from your grandmother. My mother. She used to play with you when you were only small. You two would play make believe for hours.” Chuck looked genuinely sad, and for a moment Dean believed that he was. 

Castiel frowned, looking at the floor. “I… I remember that.” He said slowly. “She used to sing to me.” 

“She did.” Chuck smiled. “She wrote you a song.” 

“Blue eyed Jimmy…” Cas whispered as long forgotten memories flooded back to him. 

“That’s the one.” 

The mix of emotions Dean was feeling right now was so bizarre, and he couldn’t imagine what Castiel was going through. He felt so protective and defensive over his husband, didn’t want him getting hurt at all, but it was obvious that Cas needed this, that he needed to find out where he’d come from to be reassured of who he was. Dean could see the welling tears in his husband’s eyes, and his hand reached out to his arm in gentle support. Cas flashed him a smile. 

“Mom had almost black hair, like mine, didn’t she?” Castiel asked suddenly, as if he’d just remembered. 

“She was beautiful.” Chuck sighed. He stood quickly, and Dean braced himself, but he walked past them and over to a cabinet behind the couch where he rummaged for a few minutes. He came back a second later, clutching a framed photograph of a woman with a familiar face. Castiel was her double, and his husband sucked in a breath at the sight of his biological mother while Dean squeezed his arm. “You look so much like her.” 

“You do.” Dean whispered in agreement. 

“But you’ve had a good life?” Chuck asked. “Your adoptive parents, did they treat you well?” 

“I just had a mom.” Castiel explained, and as Chuck nodded Dean got the impression that it wasn’t a surprise to him. “But she was wonderful.” 

“Well, you’ve got your dad now too, Jimmy.” Chuck said quietly, and Dean wasn’t sure which of the two men initiated it but suddenly he was watching his husband fall into the man’s outstretched arms in a gentle, uncertain hug. The sight of it had his heart racing, because he still couldn’t bring himself to trust Chuck, there was something that he didn’t like about the whole situation but he didn’t know what. His instincts were just screaming out that they were all a threat. 

Although the conversation was fairly tame and there was nothing else that happened to specifically make Dean feel uncomfortable, he had such a sense of alarm in his gut as their time drew to a close. They spent over an hour at the house in total, and Dean knew his husband was entirely taken with his new family, but nothing sat right with him, and he didn’t trust any of them at all. He wasn’t sure how Cas couldn’t see it, but whatever was going on Cas was blind to it.  

He shook hands with Chuck before they went to leave, and he repeated the action with Michael. He turned lastly to the younger brother, and as he gripped Luke’s hand in his own he saw them, four little bruises on the side of his neck that had almost healed. He felt his heart drop, because he’d been the owner of similar marks before, and he knew exactly how they’d got there. 

Luke watched Dean’s eyes flash back up to meet his own, but his expression was defensive and straight and Dean knew he wasn’t going to get anything of a confession from him. He let his stare turn pointed, but Luke just frowned and dropped his hand unceremoniously. Dean wondered if that’s how he’d come across as a kid, when someone pointed out one of his injuries. 

As they left the house, Cas was smiling, blissfully unaware of the pain in Dean’s heart or the troubled sensation in his stomach. They exchanged a look once inside the car, Cas looking happier than he had in a while, and Dean knew everything was fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update coming Wednesday. I'll try my best to keep up with regular updates over the holidays but I'm not sure how easily I'll get a chance so apologies in advance if it gets a bit more sporadic for a while. Normal service will eventually resume, I promise!


	24. So Many Things I Tried to Say, But My Words All Fall Like Empires Into the Ocean

**So many things I tried to say,**

**But my words all fall like empires,**

**Into the ocean.**

Like an ancient language,

We both used to know,

Only you and I used to know,

It's no longer spoken.

Nausea was almost his permanent state, at the moment.

It had been tough initially, when they’d headed to a hotel for a night, to hear Castiel talk about how happy he’d been that the meeting had gone well, what a relief it was to find out where he was from, and to have remembered some vague details of his life before his adoption, when all Dean wanted was to tell him how worried he was. It had been tougher, when over the next two weeks his husband had started to slowly change, that usually bright smile replaced by sarcastic remarks and stupid, hurtful comments. The worst part was that he knew it wasn’t Cas talking. Chuck was somehow already in his head.

Maybe he should have told him by now. Maybe Dean should have said to his husband, _Cas, I think they’re lying to you._ But when he looked as happy as he did recently, who was Dean to crush him? And wouldn’t it just come off as petty, jealous, overprotective? 

He’d talked it out with Naomi instead, when they’d arrived back in LA the following day. She was wary, like he was, and she agreed that Dean was right to be cautious, but she felt Chuck needed more of a chance to prove he wanted to be a part of Castiel’s life, and she didn’t buy Dean’s story that they were _all_ lying, because why would the brothers protect their father if he was such a bad person? Dean tried pointing out that he’d protected his own father until three years ago, but Naomi had dismissed his concerns, and he was left wondering if this was all in his head. He’d learned not to trust father figures from a young age, he supposed, and Naomi did gently suggest to him that perhaps this was why he was having a hard time believing Chuck’s story.

It didn’t stop him from feeling sick to his stomach though, every time that the man’s name was mentioned. And the first time, less than a week after their initial meeting, that Cas had gone to Kansas alone while Dean was working, without his prior knowledge, Dean had been so close to jumping on a plane and following him that he’d had to rely on Crowley to hold him back. 

How he was managing to keep it together in front of his husband, to keep up the, everything is just fine front, he would never know. Whenever Castiel wasn’t around he was a mess, and Naomi had had to tell him more than once to calm down and to breathe. His nights were plagued with horrible visions, and even though Castiel was finally sleeping soundly and cuddling into him like everything was perfect, Dean would lie awake rather than face the nightmares where Chuck or Castiel held a knife, and his exhaustion only added to his low mood. 

Today he had a visitor. He didn’t even really know it was a Saturday, if he was honest — Cas was at work again anyway. But usually they spent Friday nights seeing out the week in a bar with Charlie, and it was their absence over the last two weekends that had brought her here today. That, and the fact that she hadn’t seen either of them since Comic Con, and was eager to find out what the hell was going on. They’d been lucky enough to keep the press out of it, for now, anyway. The reporters in the panel had been subjected to a super-injunction that was protecting them, at the moment at least, and while there had been rumours getting out from people in the public nothing substantial had made its way to the headlines just yet, but it meant that for once, Charlie was out of the loop. 

“It’s good to see you.” She smiled as Dean welcomed her into the house which felt less like a home and more like a prison every time he and Cas had a single issue. 

“You too.” Dean breathed, enveloping the red headed girl in his arms before leading her through to the living room and dropping unceremoniously into the couch. It might have been gone noon, but he hadn’t even showered yet and was still just wearing sweatpants. 

“So how’s Cas? Y’know, after Comic Con?” Charlie wasted no time beating around the bush, not that Dean would have expected otherwise. 

“He’s fine.” Dean stated. He wasn’t really sure if he wanted to talk about it or not. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, so a break might be nice, but maybe he needed to get it all out. Charlie raised an eyebrow and he knew he was about to spill his heart with or without his brain’s permission. “He’s fine Charlie, but I’m not.” 

“What’s going on, Dean?” She asked with slightly narrowed eyes, but her expression was in his defence, not punishing him. 

“He’s getting involved with his father. His father and his two brothers.” Dean began, unsure what to say. “His father is an asshole.” 

When Dean didn’t say any more, Charlie sucked in a breath. “How do you know he’s an asshole?” She was trying to remain diplomatic, that much was obvious. 

Dean looked at the floor sheepishly. “I don’t have any proof. I just _know_.” 

“Ok… so what makes you think he is?” 

“Their house is a state. It’s like mine was growing up. Cas was _taken_ off of them, they say because his mom had a drug problem, and they say she overdosed but I’m sure they’re lying.  And the younger brother had strangulation marks, Charlie. I _know_ he’s being abused.” 

Charlie sighed, because the evidence that Dean had provided was more like Jell-O than concrete, but it was obvious that her friend was getting himself into a state over this. She had to be tactical. “Ok, and what if they’re not lying? And couldn’t the marks be from anything else? Maybe he just likes getting strangled in bed.” Charlie smirked, and Dean rolled his eyes, arms crossed tightly across his stomach. 

“They _are_ lying.” Dean protested. “And ok, maybe he does like kinky sex, I don’t know. But he looked really fucking shifty when he caught me looking at them. And it’s not like there’s anyone left on this stupid fucking planet that doesn’t know what happened to me.” 

“Maybe you’re right.” She said softly, and Dean’s eyes perked up. “But, Dean, maybe you’re not. I know you love Cas, and I know you’re just trying to look out for him, but have you stopped to consider that maybe you’re so wary of his dad because of how your dad was? Maybe you’re finding it hard to trust him because of your own experiences. Maybe you’re even a little jealous and protective because you’re used to not sharing him.” 

“No… I… argh.” Dean complained, rubbing frantically at his face with his fingers. “That’s exactly what Naomi said, but I—”

“—Then it’s not just me that thinks it, either.” Charlie interrupted. 

“Charlie please, you have to believe me, this _isn’t_ in my head. They’re lying, they are.” Dean hadn’t even realised how much his voice had risen, or that he was shaking with fear or anger or frustration. The fact that he’d stood up wasn’t helping his case that he wasn’t crazy. 

Charlie paused for a long moment, eyeing her old friend with a wary gaze. “What does Cas think?”

Dean sucked in a breath, looking suddenly uncomfortable, and it was only then that Charlie realised he hadn’t actually spoken to him about it. “Dean, for god’s sake you need to talk to him about how you’re feeling!” She said irritably. “He’s your husband!” 

“But he’s completely fallen into their trap.” Dean had to choke back a sob he hadn’t known was on the verge of escaping. “He was vulnerable and they’ve taken advantage of it. He won’t listen to me, Charlie, I know he won’t.” 

“Does he even know you’re upset? Is he going to bed every night thinking everything is perfect when you’re lying next to him trying not to cry?” Charlie snapped suddenly. “I get that you have issues with communication Dean but you can’t afford to fuck up here, not now you’re married. You need to be honest with him, or I will be.” 

“Why does it always fall on me?” Dean blurted, half angry, half distraught. “Why isn’t it his responsibility to figure it out? I haven’t slept properly in two weeks, but it’s still my job to say I’m struggling.” 

“He’s not a mind reader, Dean.” Charlie said, voice softer now she could see just how upset her friend was. 

“He’s not an idiot either.” Dean said bitterly. “If it was the other way around and I knew he’d been through what I had, and my long lost father came along and started getting friendly in suspicious circumstances, I’d spare a thought for what he’d be going through. I’d actually think about the fact that it might be bringing it all back for him. I’d like to think I’d notice if he wasn’t sleeping or eating or working or even fucking smiling.”

At the break in Dean’s voice as he all but yelled out his last words, Charlie stood, and let her feet carry her over to sit next to her friend, and threw her arms around his shoulder. Dean shook against her, but he wouldn’t cry, didn’t want to give Chuck the satisfaction even if he couldn’t see it. He clutched his friend and breathed slowly and heavily like she was doing, trying to keep his focus on that, and that alone. He couldn’t blame his husband really. He knew things were weird for Cas now too. He just wished his husband had put a bit more time into him in the last couple of weeks, maybe then he wouldn’t be so pent up. 

“He’s going through a lot, too.” Charlie whispered some time later, when she was still clutching his back. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to overlook how you’re feeling.” 

“I know he doesn’t mean to.” Dean sighed, pulling finally back. “But it doesn't make it hurt any less.” 

 

*

 

“How is your husband?” Chuck asked politely as he stirred the coffee in a mug that could probably do with another wash, but Cas wasn’t going to mention it. Castiel had come to spend the day with his father and brothers rather than spend his day off with Dean. He felt a little guilty about it, but he knew Dean would understand. The reminder made him feel a bit nauseous though, as if doing this was punishable. Maybe he should have spent the day with him, lounging or fucking. It had been a while since he’d dedicated any time to him, but Dean got it, didn’t he? He’d know that Cas had to get to know his family right now. His husband certainly hadn’t said anything to suggest he was anything but happy for him. 

His father turned, and handed him the mug, which he sipped from. He couldn’t stand the taste of the shitty instant coffee, but he was thirsty and Chuck, strangely enough, didn’t have a coffee machine like the one he had at home. Maybe he should buy him one, but then again, maybe that was a bit much. They were only just getting to know each other again, no need to make things weird with extravagant gifts. His one cost the better part of two thousand bucks. 

“Yeah, Dean’s fine.” Cas smiled, leaning back against the counter and wishing it was a little less sticky. He wished the house in general was a bit cleaner but he wasn’t going to complain, because he’d finally found where he’d come from, and he could deal with a sticky counter or two for that. 

“He didn’t want to come today?” Chuck was smiling, but Cas had a weird sensation in his gut. Did his father not like his husband? He’d hinted before, pointed out some of Dean’s more irritating traits, before, but he’d never truly addressed it.

“No, uh, he’s busy.” Castiel lied, but he wasn’t really sure _why_ he was lying. Just like he wasn’t really sure why he hadn’t even bothered to ask his husband if he’d wanted to come. He frowned, because that was something he had to ask himself later, probably on the flight back tonight. 

“Can I say something?” Chuck looked suddenly nervous, and it made Castiel’s heart race. He braced himself for whatever was about to happen as he nodded. He knew he was about to find out for sure what Chuck thought about Dean, and that scared him, although he wasn’t sure why it did, because how could anyone have an issue with his perfect husband if he _was_ so perfect? “I’m surprised you went for someone like him. I just… I get the impression he’s a bit controlling. I mean, I know what he’s been through so it’s no surprise, but I’m surprised he even lets you come here alone.” 

Cas raised an eyebrow and suppressed a laugh, but it was a nervous one, not one borne of humour. “He’s not controlling.” He smiled. “He’s a bit protective of me, sure, always has been, but it’s not a control thing.” 

“Are you sure, Jimmy?” Chuck asked gently. “Because he seems determined not to like me or the boys. Are you _really_ happy?” 

Castiel didn’t know where any of this was coming from but it took him aback, and he felt suddenly defensive over his marriage. “Yeah, I’m happy.” He said with conviction, although just by being presented with the question he started to ponder that fact. 

“Good. I just needed to make sure. There’s nothing worse than being trapped in an abusive relationship.” Chuck said softly, and the statement raised more questions in Castiel’s mind, some of which he wished he wasn’t asking himself. Did their marriage look abusive from the outside? Was Dean controlling him without his knowledge? Surely he’d have noticed. Surely. Dean was a good man, wasn’t he? He looked up, and his father was smiling at him happily. 

“Do you want to watch a movie, Jimmy?” 

 

*

 

It was a little late, sure, by the time his car had finally pulled back into the garage, but the sun had only just set, even if it was summer.

Castiel did a quick sweep of the house before realising his husband had already retired to bed. As much as he enjoyed spending time with his father and his new brothers, today he’d struggled. After the slightly awkward conversation he’d had with his father about Dean, all he could do was pull apart his marriage in his head. He’d spent the entire flight analysing it, thinking of Dean’s more unusual behaviours. It wasn’t abuse though, was it?

So he’d looked forward to getting back here, to seeing Dean and putting all his doubts to rest, because he didn’t even know why they were being so persistent in the first place. Everything was great. Everything was just perfect.  

He took the stairs slowly, gathering himself and trying forcing a smile onto his lips. It came more naturally when he thought about how the people who knew him well always laughed at how bad an actor he was when it came to his own life and his own emotions, but that was the thing, wasn’t it? It was easy to pretend to be someone else, but when he was just being Cas, and Cas was hurt, how could he try and be anything but? He did succeed though, tonight, even if the smile on his lips was less than convincing. He paused at the top of the staircase to suck in a breath, making a promise to himself to give Dean every chance to prove he was the perfect husband Cas had always assumed him to be. 

With a gentle hand, he pushed on the door to their bedroom, his fake smile replaced by a real one at the sight of his husband in bed, staring intently at his iPad. Whatever Dean was, Castiel loved him. Dean looked up, but the broad smile on Castiel’s lips was ignored, and the expression he was met with was stern, pissed off, mistrustful, and Cas’s grin soon faded. 

“So you did decide to come home, then?” Dean asked, voice steady. 

Cas eyed him carefully, completely confused and in total disbelief. His heart began to race, because, fuck, did that actually just come out of his husband’s mouth? _I’m surprised he even lets you come here alone_. No, no, no. Chuck can’t be right about this, surely? There wasn’t… this _wasn’t_ Dean trying to control him. It just _wasn’t._

Dean just continued to stare at him, waiting patiently for an answer with narrowed eyes and folded arms, and Castiel’s breath caught in his throat at the intensity of his gaze. “Uh… yeah… obviously.” Cas stuttered, feeling a little defensive and entirely caught off guard. 

“Right.” Dean jerked his head in annoyance and slammed his iPad shut, setting it down firmly on the cabinet next to him. “Good.”  

With trepidation, and a whole lot of anxiety, Castiel edged forward and took a seat on the bed, looking at his husband with a careful gaze. “Dean, what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, as soft as his panic would muster. “You know where I was.” 

“Yeah, Cas, I know where you were.” Dean replied, without finesse. Images of a stereotypical wife, angry after a husband had spent all day drinking and ignoring her came to mind. 

“And you know I have to get to know them on my own.” Cas said slowly, unsure where this conversation was going.

Dean just scoffed and shook his head as if in disbelief. “Do you?” He asked angrily. 

His obvious annoyance was rubbing Castiel up the wrong way, and he was starting to feel defensive over his actions. Why the hell was he having to explain this? He’d just found his _family,_ and his husband wasn’t supporting him? This wasn’t something that happened every day, and he really shouldn’t have to defend himself. 

“Yes, I do.” Castiel said, a little more irritably than he should have. “Don’t be a dick about it. It’s my life, and I’ll live it how I want to.” 

And shit, now Dean looked even more affronted than before. “When have I ever _stopped_ you living from how you want to?” He was almost yelling, and Cas braced himself, choosing the high road and not to respond. 

He didn’t want this to turn into a big fight, particularly not when Cas had spent the better part of the day questioning just how wonderful his husband really was. Not when his dad had pointed out that he was controlling and bordering on abusive. Not when Cas was having to convince himself that their relationship was as perfect as he’d always believed it was. _Not today._  

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t spend today with you.” Cas said slowly, keeping as much irritation out of his voice as possible. “Maybe I should have invited you to come with me.” 

“It would have been a start.” Dean snapped in response, and Cas bristled again. “I’ve barely seen you over the last two weeks, and whenever I have you’ve been an asshole.” 

“I’m not being an asshole, Dean!” Castiel protested angrily. “I’m just speaking my mind, _for once_.” 

“ _Your_ mind?” Dean accused, and holy fuck was Cas getting riled now. “You sure it’s yours?” 

“Because it’s not _yours_ , Dean? Who else’s would it be?” Cas responded with fury. 

Dean tensed, but chose to ignore the comment. “Just seems a strange coincidence that you start being a dick as soon as your dad shows up.” 

“Maybe that’s just because he’s helping me to see that I can live by my own rules, not yours.” 

“Not mine?!” Dean stared at him with disbelief. “What the fuck, Cas? Do you know what? I can’t do this. I don’t _want_ to do this. I won’t have you talking shit like that when I know it’s not coming from you. I’m sleeping in the other room.” 

“Fine.” Cas yelled after his husband, but Dean had already torn across the room and the door slammed behind him, its echo resonating the sour pain left in Castiel’s heart. 

Oh. Holy. Fuck.

What the hell just happened? Had Dean always been like that? So defensive and jealous? The things Chuck had said to him earlier… they all sounded more feasible now. Dean acting out because Cas was doing something other than what he’d wanted him to do sounded more like control than Cas was willing to admit. But their marriage wasn’t a bad one, was it? They’d been happy, right? Talking about their future? Maybe he needed to talk to someone about this, someone who knew them both. Maybe he could ask Naomi. 

He tried to sleep, after he’d used the bathroom. He tossed, turned, groaned, and eventually cried, but nothing sent him dreaming. His heart was hurting, and all he wanted was a hug. He felt so guilty for the things he’d just said to his husband. Whether Dean was a bit controlling or not, it was _Dean_. His Dean. The Dean who’d been with him through so much shit, who’d taken so much for him, who’d saved him in so many ways. If his husband was fighting for power in their relationship, it was because of the stuff he’d been through. It was fixable, and Cas could forgive him for it. 

If Dean would forgive him, at any rate. 

Images and words from the last few weeks ran through his mind, projected against the dark ceiling as Cas watched it all back. Dean wasn’t wrong, he had been an asshole at times. Sarcastic, snappy. He’d put it down to his mixed up emotions, to being left vulnerable and confused by his dad’s sudden appearance. It was hard for him, and he thought Dean understood that. But maybe his husband expected more from him, considering all the shit he’d had to go through himself. 

Maybe he wasn’t being fair. 

With that thought in mind, Cas dragged the comforter off of his body, slipping out of the bedroom and padding along the corridor in just his boxers, bare feet sinking into the carpet through this lesser used part of the house. He turned into the bedroom that Dean used in his first month of living here, that he’d hoped his husband would never use again. His heart skipped a little at the sight of him, deeply breathing and sound asleep. At least one of them was getting a decent rest tonight. Cas smiled. He was still so in love.

Gently, Cas climbed into the bed. Dean stirred, just enough to roll towards him, and Cas seized the opportunity to sneak his arm under his husband’s head, letting the other drape over his middle. It seemed he hadn’t been asleep long, if the still wet tears on his cheeks were anything to go by. Cas shuffled closer, holding his husband close, and Dean clutched him back as if they were magnets.

The pain was still there, but it was number now, and after pressing a kiss into Dean’s hair, Cas embraced his sleep. 

 

*

 

By the time Castiel next opened his eyes the sun had risen again. He stared up at the ceiling, letting his eyes gently come into focus as he blinked and squinted against the sun’s rays. They were coming from his right. That was weird. The window was in a different place. 

His brain caught slowly up to his vision, and he remembered with a pang of his heart the argument that had lead Dean to run from him last night. The irritation was there too, but the pain overwhelmed it. He remembered following Dean in here, how warm his body had felt against his own as he’d clutched him. 

Castiel looked to his side, and his husband was looking at him with a curious gaze, careful and hesitant. Cas smiled in reassurance, trying to convey his apology and his forgiveness. Dean’s lips curled too, in an almost inconceivable smile, but Cas knew he was forgiven. 

“You came after me.” Dean whispered the statement, and Cas was a little pained to notice his husband’s surprise. 

“Yeah.” He said in response. “I did.” 

“Why?” Dean asked, and Cas wished he didn’t have to. 

“Because I love you and I’m sorry. And I don’t ever want to be without you.” 

Castiel watched his husband pause, watched the skepticism in his eyes, and knew that Dean was doubting his words. It stung, more than he’d let on, to know that he’d damaged the trust between them and left Dean feeling like this. It was too much to bear, actually, and Castiel leant forward, hovering just close enough to kiss his husband but far enough back that Dean could pull away if he didn’t want it. He did, though, and Dean leant into him and pressed their lips together in a soft, slow meeting that left Cas feeling like everything would work itself out. 

The smile on Dean’s lips when Cas pulled away was reassuring, and he hoped he’d done enough to convince Dean that his love, at very least, was true. “The next day I have off I’m spending just with you, I promise.” Cas whispered, and Dean’s smile broadened a little at the thought. They kissed gently again, and when they finally broke apart and Dean cuddled back into him, Cas felt so much better than he had done. 

“I love you too.” Dean whispered, some time later, and Cas beamed at him, and kissed his forehead. 

They lay together for a short while, minds processing the events of their turbulent last few weeks, but it was peaceful. It was only when Cas glanced out at the window, thinking about the fact that the sun was already up, that his heart dropped. 

“Oh fuck.” He muttered, Dean pulling away from him as he eyed him curiously. “What time is it? I left my phone in our room. My alarm…” He stuttered. 

Jesus Christ, Naomi was going to be having a headfit. Dean lifted his arm, glancing at the silver Rolex he wore on his wrist, a Christmas present from Castiel a few years ago he still loved entirely,  and he grimaced. “It’s ten thirty.” He said, sounding guilty. 

“Ohhh shit…” Cas stuttered slowly. “I’m supposed to be on set today. Naomi’s gunna kill me.” 

Dean blushed, while Cas looked at him with confusion. “I think I heard her voice earlier.” He admitted.

 Rather than be angered by that, Cas was almost grateful. The long rest had done them good, and given him the opportunity to apologise. So what if he was a bit late? He almost never was. “She probably thinks we’ve finally run away together.” He smiled. 

The statement elicited a light chuckle from his husband’s mouth that was music to his ears. It had been a while since he’d heard Dean laugh, and that hurt. “She wouldn’t think to look for us in here.” 

“No, you’re right, she wouldn’t.” Cas beamed, and a thought came to mind that set his heart racing. “We could make the most of them not knowing where we are…” Cas smirked. 

Dean’s eyebrows raised suspiciously. “What are you suggesting?” 

Without giving his husband any more time to consider, Cas shuffled forward, so his body was flush with Dean’s. He looked into the deep green of his husband’s intrigued eyes until he was sure Dean was on board with the program, and he smiled wickedly as he pressed their lips together, sharply inhaling a breath at the electric sensation that hadn’t changed since they were just kids. It felt just as good now to kiss him as it ever did. 

As Dean groaned, Cas felt him surrender. Whether he was trying to control aspects of their relationship or not, this was Castiel’s domain, and Cas intended to keep it that way. His hands found Dean’s waist and stroked over his bare skin, feeling the trail of gooseflesh he was leaving behind. He grabbed at Dean’s hips while his husband whimpered, and his cock twitched when Dean’s erection rubbed against him. 

Prizing his lips away from his husband’s, Cas focused in on his ear, hot breath meeting damp skin as he nibbled his teeth over the lobe and left Dean writhing against him, straining for more pressure. Cas let out a chuckle, and held him firm, sucking lightly, nothing that would make a mark, into parts of his jaw and his neck, licking his tongue across his pulse point as Dean gasped. 

A breath caught in Castiel’s throat when Dean’s hand found his cock and squeezed along its length. He thrusted back against it, because it felt so fucking good, but to Dean’s displeasure he left his husband’s untouched. For now, at least. Cas took another long kiss from his lips before he pulled downwards, scattering Dean’s torso with kisses, sucking a nipple up onto his tongue and lapping against it. Dean was gripping into the bedsheets without reserve, gritting his teeth to stop from wailing. It wouldn’t do to have Naomi catch them in here when they were in the middle of this. She could wait a bit longer. 

As Castiel’s mouth pulled even lower, Dean moaned in self-pity as he watched his lips avoid his cock. Through the fabric of his boxers, Cas let his teeth drag a gentle line along the top of his leg, dipping his mouth under to carry on and lightly nibble at Dean’s balls. His husband grunted, and Cas watched the tiny wet spot of precome soak into the waistband of his grey boxers from the tip of his cock. The sight was fucking glorious, and Cas pulled up enough to look down at it, seeing the head just peeking through from under the waistband where it was straining so hard was enough to make him crazy with lust. 

Cas dipped his head low again, and pushed his tongue under the elastic, gently dragging along the tip and licking the salty precome off of him while Dean bucked up in pleasure. He hadn’t intended on making this a blowjob, but now that he thought about it, they didn’t keep lube in here anyway. With his teeth, he pulled the elastic down a little further, peppering the head of Dean’s throbbing cock with gentle kisses while his husband squirmed and tried to push against him for extra friction. Cas held his hips down with a firm hand, sucked strongly on his cock, and with the other hand stroked his balls. 

A really strange, almost pained sound was escaping Dean now, and Cas was at his breaking point where he wanted to blow his husband so badly. He was in the process of shuffling Dean’s boxers the rest of the way off of his cock when Dean tugged suddenly on his hair and he looked up to meet desperate eyes. 

“Together.” Dean said, but it was more of a question. Cas furrowed his brow, because he didn’t initially understand, but when Dean pulled him back up only to push his boxers off, Cas started getting the message. It was even more explicit, when Dean pulled onto his knees, and then tipped the other way to put his face in front of Castiel’s cock and lining his own up with his husband’s mouth. 

Until Dean’s sloppy tongue circled the head of his cock Cas hadn’t realised quite how turned on he was. He groaned, but he still knew he’d beat Dean, whose racing heart he could feel against his stomach. He let his head push forward, licking Dean’s cock into his mouth with only his tongue while his husband gasped. He’d forgotten how filthy it was, having Dean’s moans and gasps vibrate against his own dick. 

Cas began a gentle rhythm, one hand grabbing at Dean’s ass and the other softly stroking his balls. His husband wasn’t going to last, he knew that much by how much he was struggling with the blowjob he was giving. Dean’s movements were erratic and firm, fucking his head forward without thought or reserve, and it was really fucking good, but Cas knew that after Dean was done he’d gather himself and then he’d do even better. He couldn’t fucking wait for that. 

While continuing to bob his lips along the length of Dean’s cock, Cas prized his husband’s legs apart. He brought his hand back to his lips, pushing a finger into his mouth with Dean’s dick while his husband writhed, and when it was soaked he felt for Dean’s hole, pushing it inside. Dean let out a cry, which washed like hot air along Castiel’s dick and made him shudder. Cas worked his finger, crooking it at an angle, and he could almost feel Dean’s release building himself. He sucked harder on his cock as he picked up speed, and Dean’s whole body was shaking now with his imminent finish. 

“Uh… gunna…” Cas could hear, but the words were muffled around his dick and he didn’t need the warning because he could feel it, so he just went even faster, tightening his lips as a seal as his husband gave in and was completely overwhelmed. Cas pulled his finger back out from inside Dean to keep him steadied as he shuddered out with his orgasm, and he fucked his own cock deeper into his husband’s throat to block out the sounds that were trying to escape while Dean spilled into him. He waited until Dean had completely stilled, sucked him dry, and let his cock slip slowly from his lips as he swallowed the come down. 

Dean’s heavy breaths were tormenting him no end, and Cas had half a mind to fuck his face rather than wait, but he was glad he didn’t, because when Dean started moving again he had all the self control of a saint, and his lips felt tight and firm against Castiel’s cock. Dean bounced his head with enthusiasm, and Cas knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it in for much longer, not now that Dean’s explosive release was fresh in his mind. The taste of come was still on his lips and he swallowed again, encouraging a little more speed from his husband as he thrusted in a bit more and forced more of him down Dean’s throat. 

As if getting the message, Dean sped up, his hands groping at Castiel’s balls as he quickened his pace and panted against his cock. The coil was tight in Castiel’s belly and it was going to pop any second. He was groaning steadily, his face against Dean’s softening dick, and stared at it, recalling all the times he’d brought its owner apart and watched him come everywhere. It was that image that did it, and as Cas thrust forward one last time he met the mark, breath getting stuck in his throat as the white fire hit him, as his own mouth hung open and his cock spurted inside his husband. 

A few minutes later, when they’d wiped themselves off and had just about caught their breaths, Cas pulled Dean up for another passionate kiss. But this time, when they broke apart, he had sadness in his eyes. “We’d better face the music.” He whispered, to which his husband reluctantly nodded. 

They pulled their boxers back on before they snuck out of the room, only when their cheeks had lost the pink, post sex tinge, and they grabbed their bath robes from their room as they scurried out to the stairs. She was at the bottom, not that they’d known that, and she saw them as they hit the landing. 

“Where the fuck have you two been?!” Naomi almost screeched, and Cas felt guilty, because he could see this was borne out of worry as well as irritation. 

“We slept in the other room.” He shrugged, trying to pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. 

“You… what? Why?” The half-explanation had her stuttering for once. 

“We fancied a change?” Dean tried, but he sounded anything but confident in that answer. 

“Without your alarms?” Naomi pointed out, and Cas swallowed. 

“I forgot about it, alright? I’m sorry.” Castiel said, and it was genuinely the truth. He could tell his manager was pissed off and that this _would not_ be the last time he had to hear about this today, but she also needed him out of the house. He was already so late. 

“Alright, whatever.” She snapped, but it wasn’t the end of it. “Castiel, you’re late for work. Go get changed, be back here ASAP. Dean… actually, you can still be on time.” 

Doing what he was told, Cas turned around on the spot and headed back to their room, Dean at his heels. 

“She always makes me feel like a naughty school girl.” Dean whispered as soon as their door closed. Castiel chuckled at his husband’s ability always to make him laugh. 

“I’d like to see that outfit.” He grinned. 

Dean wrinkled his nose. “Is that you admitting to some weird kink?” 

Again, Cas laughed. “No!” He protested. “Not like that. I just think it’d be hilarious. I can imagine her telling you off.” 

“She’ll tell you off in a minute if you don’t get in the shower, pronto.” Dean grinned, but he wasn’t expecting Cas to grab his hand and pull him into the bathroom with him. He watched curiously, as Cas switched the shower on, before coming back to stand in front of him. “Babe, I’m not ready for another round.” He protested. “And we really don’t have time —”

“—Is sex _all_ you think about?” Cas interrupted with a smirk, pushing his husband’s robe off of his shoulders before repeating it with his own. He let his boxers fall to the floor before slipping under the hot falling water and sighing. “Come on.”

Dean eyed him carefully for a moment, but he shrugged, pushed his own boxers off, and joined his husband under the shower, grinning as it soothed his muscles. He felt suddenly vulnerable, when Cas put his hands on his waist, leant in and stole a kiss, but he shouldn’t have worried at all, because all Cas had in mind was sweetness and love. Castiel lifted the soap to his hands and squirted a load into his palms, rubbing Dean’s back down with firm fingers while his husband groaned. His muscles felt tense, and he spent way longer than he needed to massaging each knot out with dedication and love. 

Despite Dean’s declaration that he hadn’t been ready for round two, when Cas finally finished with his back he stepped towards him and buried his head onto his shoulder, looking down to see how _ready_ Dean actually was. He had to look away though, because there wasn’t time for that. He’d already spent way too long in here and Naomi was already on his case today. 

Instead, he kissed his husband, and lead him out of the shower. 

“Dean?” He said, while they were getting dressed moments later. “We’ll do something nice together the next time I have a day off. I’m so sorry.” 

Dean smiled. That man was worth the world, Cas was sure. “It’s ok, babe, I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

 

*

 

Considering how great his morning had been, Castiel should probably have expected a shitty day. His time on set was stressed and panicked, because his oversleeping had thrown the schedule completely off and now their deadlines were threatened. It was his fault, and he was made to feel like it. 

It had started, though, as early as the car ride to the studio from his home. Naomi had shot him a suspicious glare as soon as they were alone, and she’d flipped off the microphone to the driver to keep their conversation private. 

“Why were you _actually_ in the other room?” She demanded. 

Castiel sighed. He’d known she wouldn’t let it drop. “Because we’d argued, and Dean had stormed off. I went after him.” He admitted. 

His manager’s face turned concerned and thoughtful. “What were you arguing over?” She asked carefully. 

“Stuff.” Cas said, not keen to discuss it any further. He turned his head to look away from her, but again, he knew he wasn’t getting off this easily. 

“What _stuff_ , Castiel?” She asked, and he groaned. 

"He doesn’t… I don’t know, he doesn’t like my dad very much. It’s kinda causing issues.” Cas said, because then again, he did value her opinion, and he’d only been thinking last night how maybe he needed to talk to her about his marriage. 

Naomi paused, and Cas could see her calculating expression. She had a strong opinion, that was obvious, but she was having to figure out how to express it carefully. “Well, you are spending a lot of time in Kansas. He’s right to be concerned, you probably shouldn’t be getting so involved so quickly.” She said. 

“Oh for god’s sake. Not you too!” Castiel complained in response, any thought of confessing his concerns for his marriage out of the window. “Why the hell shouldn’t I get involved, Naomi? I’ve finally found my family!” 

“Not _your_ family, Castiel. You have a family. This family you didn’t need until they told you they existed.” She pointed out, and he shot her a cold glare, because really, it had hit home. 

He hadn’t ever _needed_ them, hadn’t really ever been that bothered. He’d never actively _wanted_ them, so why now? It was just the knowing they were there to give him some comfort. And she was right, really, he was ignoring his real family in favour of this new one, but having it pointed out had pissed him off regardless. Great, more food for thought today, then. 


	25. I Don't Ever Want to Feel Like I Did That Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this up guys but happy holidays, hope you've all had the best time, and happy new year in advance! 
> 
> So this story is going to get a little more angsty before it gets better... obvs. But I love a bit of angst, I have to admit! 
> 
> But, because I only have a cold outer rim to my heart, it will of course get better. So hang in there if you fancy it, and if not then I apologise!

The day they were supposed to be spending together was scuppered, or perhaps saved, by Charlie’s visit. Dean had been busy with work, so unfortunately for him, Cas had been spending his weekends down in Kansas, and with every passing day he was becoming more and more like Chuck. Dean was completely powerless to stop the transformation. His once lovely husband would find any excuse to call Dean out, making pointlessly sarcastic remarks and being generally unfair. He wanted to talk to him, wanted to ask him why, but any time he was presented with an opportunity he chickened out or he blew it, and it led to another angry rant. Gone, was the husband that had kissed him in the shower only a couple of weeks ago. 

This afternoon, Charlie was there to diffuse some of the tension, but the atmosphere was still way more uncomfortable than it usually was. Dean was midway through telling her a story, about a crew member that tripped backstage and how he’d laughed out loud remembering it while on set in one of his more recent interviews. He had a huge smile on his face even recalling it now. The guy had been fine, just to clarify, and he’d found it entertaining as well. 

“Not this again, for the hundredth time.” Castiel muttered irritably, and Dean stopped in his tracks, feeling suddenly embarrassed. Had he really gone on about it that much? 

“Well, I haven’t heard the story, Cas.” Charlie said, expression steady and stern, but Castiel just rolled his eyes. 

“Trust me, I’ve heard it enough for you too. It’s boring. He falls over, and Dean laughs while on camera.” Cas just shrugged. 

“Yep, that was literally it. Thanks for all your support, babe.” Dean said under his breath in response, crossing his arms across his chest and looking anywhere but at his two companions. It was embarrassing him how Castiel was behaving. So far he'd kept their spats between the two of them, so no one knew just how he was acting behind closed doors. He preferred that, no one else being in on their dirty secrets, no one else knowing how much he was struggling with his husband’s recent change in attitude. 

“Stop it, you two.” Charlie looked in disbelief. “What the hell has gotten into you?” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Castiel shot an angry glance in his husband’s direction, and Charlie followed his gaze with confused eyes. 

“What the fuck do you mean, ask him? _I’m_ not the problem here!” Dean snapped in response, voice rising a little in frustration. The worst part was that he knew his husband was still in there, that all he could see right now when he looked into his eyes was Chuck staring back at him, that he knew Cas had been manipulated and trapped and this attitude was the product of his insecurities, anger, fear and vulnerability. It hurt that he couldn’t fix it for him, make it better, and that he was taking it out in such a horrible way. 

“ _Right_.” Castiel said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and making a big show out of it. He was being downright spiteful and it was really hurting Dean to watch. “Sure you’re not.”   
 ****

Dean would have responded, he would have made matters even worse, but Charlie was on hand to defend him. “Cas, I think you're being a bit unreasonable.” She said firmly.

“Unreasonable?” Cas raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Seriously?” 

“Yes!” Dean and Charlie both protested in unison. 

“He’s being a dick.” Castiel tried to say. 

“I am _not_.” Dean was almost yelling, because he was starting to get really pissed off now, too. It wasn’t just Cas who could dish this shit out, he could give back as good as he got if he needed to. He was just trying to be the better man, trying to hold on to his dignity.  

“In Dean’s defence, you’re the one who’s being sarcastic and snappy, Cas.” Charlie pointed out. 

“Did he put you up to this?” Cas questioned, starting to get really angry. It was showing in his voice now how much he was having to try to hold it together. 

“Oh yeah, sure, ‘cause it could only possibly be me that thinks you’re being an asshole recently.” Dean rolled his eyes, and Cas shot him a glare that shut him up before he could go on. 

“Fuck off, Dean.” 

“Cas!” Charlie complained. “Seriously, this isn’t like you! Why are you being like that to him?” 

But it seemed Castiel was done with answering questions, because he threw his hands in the air as he pulled himself off of the couch, and both Dean and Charlie watched with frustration and regret as he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him so hard that the walls shook. When Charlie looked back over to her friend, he had tears in his eyes. 

“Charlie, I know you meant well, but you literally could not have made things worse.” Dean said quietly, and it was obvious to her how much he was hurting. 

“I’m sorry, but I had to stand up for you. What’s with him?” She asked, curious and upset. 

“I told you.” He sniffed, wiping away a tear that had fallen. “This is how he’s been since his dad showed up.” 

“This is _all_ because of his dad?” She asked, incredulous. 

“Yeah.” He chewed down on his lip to hold the rest of his tears in. 

“Dean, if he’s like this when _I’m_ around, what’s he like when I’m not?” 

“Even worse.” Dean admitted, and his lip was wobbling with the strain of not breaking down. 

“Are you…” She took a deep breath, and tried again. “Are you still, y’know, happy?” 

Dean shook his head. “Don’t… don’t ask me that.” He requested, and her eyes softened. He could see that she was scared just like he was, and that this was hurting her too. She gently draped her arms around his shoulders and he took her in a tight hug that helped to calm his painful heart. 

“I need to go and talk to him.” She said quietly, and Dean sucked in a breath, but he nodded too. 

“Good luck.” He said, voice faltering. “He’ll be in the bar.” 

She’d already stood by that point, and she turned back to face him. “Isn’t drinking in the afternoon more your thing, not his?” 

“Not any more, apparently.” 

 

*

 

Edging gingerly into the bar, Charlie’s eyes landed on Castiel’s slumped figure, his head hung low in his hands, back arched loosely over the bar. Her heart throbbed a little at the sight, because it was obvious to her, even if it wasn’t to his husband, that Cas was hurting, that this acting out was a product of his pain and vulnerability. Maybe it was because Chuck had manipulated him and was trying to turn them against each other. But maybe it was the opposite, maybe this was Cas trying to fight his mind, to fight the things his father could be saying to him. There was a worse option though, what if this wasn’t Chuck’s fault at all? What if the things Cas was saying were real? What would that mean for her two friends? She didn’t believe it, though.  

She approached slowly, and she knew he’d heard her take the stool next to him even though he didn’t move. She let her hand reach out and gently hold the small of his back, and felt him relax a little against her touch. 

“Cas, what’s going on with you?” She asked softly. “Why are you drinking so early?” 

It seemed like he wasn't done with the attitude yet today, and he scoffed, turning his head to meet her gaze. “It’s not that early.” He muttered, bitter. 

Charlie rolled her eyes, resisting a strong urge to slap the sense back into him. “Come on, don’t be like this.” 

“Don’t be like _what_?” He asked petulantly, acting like a stupid child who was having a temper tantrum. She nearly told him as much, but decided against it.   
 ****

“An asshole.” She said instead, keeping her expression steady. The movie star had never scared her, she had always seen past his confident exterior to the scared and broken man inside him. Maybe it was why she’d taken to him so quickly, the fact that she wanted to be there for him so badly, and how she could see how much he needed a true friend, how much he needed his now husband.

“You really are on his side, aren’t you?” He said irritably, and she drew a sharp breath out of frustration. 

“Well no offence, _Castiel_ , but you’re the one being a dick.” She snapped back, figuring maybe he’d respond better to some honest words. “Look, I get that I’m not inside your marriage. I don’t know, maybe Dean is being just as bad behind closed doors. Maybe this is all his fault, but regardless, you’re the one causing the problems right now and it just _isn't you._ It’s not either of you to be acting like this. A month ago you two were almost sickening with how in love you were. I mean, you were talking about having a baby!” 

And there it was, for the first time she was actually getting through to him. Behind the fury in his eyes was a sadness, a wistfulness, and she knew he was wishing that things were still the same as they were before. It was like he wanted it to be, but he was confused, she could see, and he didn’t know how to ask. 

“What happened, Cas? It’s like…” She trailed off, feeling suddenly awkward. 

“What is it like?” He asked. 

“Call it a coincidence.” She started, nervous and unsure how he would take this. “But you’ve been acting like this since your dad showed up.” 

Castiel audibly groaned and rubbed at his face. “I know that’s what Dean has told you, but he’s wrong. He just doesn’t like my dad. I don’t know if he’s jealous or what, but he's been really unreasonable towards him. But it’s not about him, honestly, it’s not.” 

“No?” Charlie asked, skeptical. “Then why _are_ you being like this?” 

“Because I’ve realised some things about our marriage recently that I don’t like.” He admitted, and he looked genuinely sad about it. 

Charlie furrowed her brow. “Like what?” 

“Like Dean is trying to control me.” 

And well, there was no way she could hold her laugh in when he was being so ridiculous, was there? “Are you serious?” She chuckled. “Cas, can you even hear yourself right now? Dean is the _least_ controlling person I know! Everyone can see that you hold all of the control in your marriage. I know you take charge in bed, that you make the joint decisions, that because _you’re_ the famous one you get to make decisions about your publicity, appearances, where you go, what you do… I mean Jesus, Cas, Dean would do absolutely anything to please you. And he’s never been in control of _anything_ in his life!” 

Castiel paused for a long moment while Charlie eyed him carefully. The movie star seemed not to be convinced, but perhaps she would eventually get through to him. He seemed to understand that he was being unreasonable, at any rate. “I love him.” He stated, although for a moment she panicked he was telling himself that. “I’m just… I don’t know, there are things I need to work out with him.” 

“You won’t achieve anything by yelling at him.” She pointed out. 

“No, I guess not.” He breathed. “I’m sorry that I yelled at you, Charlie.” 

“It’s ok.” She smiled, and Cas let her pull him into a hug.   
 ****

“I guess I better talk to him, huh?” Castiel left his unfinished drink on the side of the bar, and jumped down off of his stool, letting Charlie link his arm with her own as they walked back through into the living room. He had every intention of apologising, but his anger started boiling up again when he found it empty.

“Where has he gone?” He muttered bitterly, and he loaded up an app on his cell to check where Dean’s phone currently was. The map showed them exactly where, a bar in the middle of Hollywood. Charlie eyed the actor carefully, because he’d gone from being ready to beg forgiveness to ready to knock Dean out again in a matter of seconds. 

 

*

 

It was late, like, really late, maybe even early, by the time that Dean eventually got in. Castiel had felt so angry and betrayed by his husband’s sudden disappearance that he hadn’t bothered going after him or sending out security to bring him home, he’d just let him get on with it. He’d realised, late in the evening, that actually, it was a pretty stupid decision, because what would the press say to finding Dean out on his own without Cas? Their marital issues _had_ to stay inside this house for the benefit of their careers. 

But still, he’d feuded, letting his anger seethe in the pit of his belly from the minute Dean had left until right now. 

When his husband clambered awkwardly into bed, Cas turned his nose up, because he could smell the alcohol rolling in waves off of him. It made him feel sick, and reminded him only of one person. John Winchester. Dean didn’t even bother to greet him, and that only pissed him off more. Cas sat upright, and turned on the lamp next to his bed. 

“Where the hell have you been?” He snapped. 

“Out.” Dean replied, a smile on his lips. The smile just made it worse, and Cas felt like he wanted to slap it off of his face. 

“Out?” He asked bitterly. 

“Yeah.” Dean rolled his eyes, really, really obviously. Cas was all but holding himself back from hitting him at this point. “I went out out.” 

“On your own?” Cas pointed out, trying to make him realise how stupid that was. 

“Well, I was, then I bumped into some people we know, and I made some new friends.” He explained. 

“Like who? Who were you with?” Cas demanded. 

“Alayna.” Dean rolled his eyes again. Cas sucked in a breath, he was pissed off, but at least it would look to the press like an arranged thing if he was with their friend, and their marital issues would hopefully stay within the house. 

“And what _new friends_ did you make?” Cas spat. 

“There was this pretty girl, called Lucy.” Dean smiled, and it was worse than a kick in the teeth. All in one go Castiel felt jealous, angry, scared, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss his husband and beg his forgiveness, to slap him in the face, and to run away crying all at the same time. 

“Lucy.” Cas repeated the name, tears brimming in his eyes with anger or frustration or sadness, he didn’t know any more. 

“Yeah, she was nice.” Dean smiled again. 

“Was she.” Cas said, more of a statement than a question. Oh god, if he’d cheated… so much would be fucked. Their reputations, their marriage… Castiel’s heart most of all. He tried to be reassured, Dean had told him before that he’d never cheat. He’d repeated their wedding vows to him, but he couldn’t find the confidence to believe his memories. He was shaking now, with rage or jealousy. He just wanted Dean to give him some attention, but he knew he was being ridiculous. His husband had been trying, and he’d been throwing it back in his face. This was on him. Controlling or not, he was in love with this man, and it was killing him to think Dean might have been unfaithful, and that he might have pushed him to do that. And regardless, it was only to be expected that Dean would have a few issues with control given his upbringing. Why had Cas decided just to act like a child about it rather than try and work through it? He suddenly felt full of regret. 

“Yeah, she was.” Dean finally met his eyes, and he looked so calm it made Cas feel even worse. Like Dean wasn’t affected by any of this at all. “She gave me her number.” 

Castiel knew he’d royally fucked up. He _knew_ it, but it didn’t make hearing this any easier. He wanted to apologise and beg forgiveness, but he was too pissed off. “Did she give you anything else?” He snapped, but this anger was borne of his pain now. 

Dean’s gaze remained stern and serious, his expression blank. Cas knew his own emotions would have been readable from a mile away, he was doing such a bad job at holding himself together right now. To think he was an Oscar winner. 

“I didn’t cheat on you, if that’s what you’re asking.” Dean said calmly, and Cas _really_ wanted to believe him, but his damned heart was doing flips and there were so many holes left in his composure by their constant, recent battles that any conviction and faith he’d had had already leaked out. 

“Sure.” Cas replied, voice shaking as much as his hands. It was so hard not to cry. “Go to sleep.” He said, throwing himself back onto the pillow, facing away from his husband as he leant over to turn the lamp off, tears already streaming down his cheeks. 

“I wouldn’t, Cas.” Dean whispered into the night, and if he’d been any less drunk he’d have probably noticed how obviously his husband was sobbing now even if the memory foam absorbed most of his shuddering. 

Cas couldn’t talk, didn’t want to talk. “Fuck you, Dean.” He said, conversation over. 

His husband sighed, long and hard. “Fuck you too Cas.” 

 

*

 

“Cas… I can’t… we can’t be like this. We can’t just not talk to each other. Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, ok?” Dean blurted suddenly, turning to look his husband in the eye. They were sitting together over dinner in silence, and he pushed the plate away, leaving the food almost completely uneaten. His emotions had been building up so much that all he'd touched was a few fries, and they didn’t taste good like usual, because he felt so sour. 

It had been building up for a couple of days now, his guilt and regret. He’d known Castiel was still mad about the other night, and he was still mad too, but this horrible feeling was worse. Living with someone without talking to them was too much for him to do. He loved his husband, and he missed him. 

Even by the next morning, as hungover as he had been, Dean had felt guilty. He’d been ready to apologise then, would have, if Cas hadn’t already gone to Kansas without telling him or leaving a note. The act had pissed him off enough to feud over this until now, his anger fuelled by vicious imaginations of his dad poisoning his mind, of them sitting together and talking about what terrible thing Dean had done now. 

But still, he hadn’t meant to just blurt out his apology. He’d meant to think it through a bit more. His mind wasn’t really on his side, at the moment. He locked eyes with Castiel, who held them with a stern determination. But Dean could see through it, knew that his husband too, felt guilty, and he wondered if he’d intended to apologise too, if Dean had left it a bit longer. He looked embarrassed that Dean was getting in there first. 

“I’m sorry that I went out without you. I was angry and I was upset, and it was really stupid. And yes, I know how damaging it could have been. It was just luck that we got away with it. But I’m not saying you haven’t been different recently. Because you have. And I don’t like it. But we can make this work again, Cas, I just need you to try. _Please_ try.” He begged. 

Castiel stayed silent for a long moment, taking deep breaths as he thought over his options. Dean could see his mind processing, could see that even if he did forgive him, it would be a close call. “I’m sorry that I’m not acting like myself.” Cas said finally, and Dean let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “I will try. If you tell me the truth.” He said. 

“The truth about what?” Dean asked, relief washing through his heart at Castiel’s promise. 

“Lucy.” Cas said simply, and Dean felt suddenly so ashamed. 

What an ass he’d been, really. He was just as bad as Cas had been, and didn’t deserve forgiveness. He’d known when he’d said it, how it would make his husband feel. He’d said it out of spite and bitterness, jealousy and anger, but he’d all but forgotten it until now. He’d been incredibly drunk, after all. 

He let out a sigh, and dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his cheeks with his fingers until he could face looking into Castiel’s eyes again. “I’m so sorry about that.” He said quietly. He was the worst husband in the world. He’d known about Castiel’s insecurities and he’d abused it, used jealousy to prove that Cas cared about him. He couldn’t blame the alcohol, but it hadn’t helped. “Lucy’s a lesbian.” He said, and Castiel’s features grew instantly more pissed off. “She _was_ nice. But she only gave me her number because I showed her a picture of Charlie. I was gunna set them up.” 

“So you made me think you’d cheated on me on purpose?” Cas asked, voice surprisingly steady considering the question. 

“Not cheated… that hadn’t been my intention.” Dean said truthfully. “But when you jumped to that conclusion… I just needed to see that you still cared about me. I tried to tell you I hadn’t, but I was drunk and I know that I was unconvincing.” 

“You realise that’s a really shitty thing to do to me?” Cas said, his distress becoming more evident now. “Dean for fuck’s sake. I know we’ve been arguing, but you’re still my fucking husband and I still love you!” 

Dean’s breath caught in his throat, because it was the first time in a few weeks he’d heard those words and they softened the blow a little. All he wanted to do was have his husband kiss him with passion. “I love you too.” He said quietly. “And it’s no excuse, because I know I was wrong, but I was starting to think you don’t care any more.” 

“What?!” Cas exclaimed, exasperated. His voice became softer as he continued, and his expression changed to one of sadness. “Why would you think that? I mean… I know I could do better… _Jesus_. How did we get like this?” 

Dean shook his head before glancing back up to meet his husband’s sad eyes. “I don’t know.” 

 

**I don't ever wanna feel,**

**Like I did that day,**

But take me to the place I love,

Take me all the way.

 


	26. I Will Not Give You up This Time

‘Cause we were just kids when we fell in love, 

Not knowing what it was, 

**I will not give you up this time.**

  
****

“Where exactly do you think you’re going?” Kevin sounded confused rather than irritable. Dean gripped his fingers into the steering wheel of the Impala as he tried to formulate a lie. He’d never had to explain where he was heading out before, the security guy would just open the gate normally rather than call the chief. Cas must have asked them not to let him out without his knowledge or consent. Suspicious bastard. 

It definitely wasn’t the best thought out plan, in everyone else’s defence. He’d only decided last night that he had to take action, and somehow the only thing he could think of to try was to confront Chuck himself with a microphone hidden in his pocket. Maybe then the asshole would show his true colours and his family would stop calling him crazy. 

“To Charlie’s house?” Dean said, but it sounded like a question and he knew he’d blown it from how unstable his own voice was. He’d taken way too long to answer at any rate. 

There was a huffing sound on the intercom, and the mic snapped off, but the gate didn't open and the guy in the booth shuffled awkwardly. Dean waited uncomfortably for a minute or so, because he wasn’t going to give up but the guard in the booth wasn't listening to his pleas. He spotted Kevin walking down the driveway in his rear view mirror a moment later and he groaned, because it was harder to escape him in person. 

Rather than tap on the window or open his door, Kevin walked around to the passenger side of the Impala and climbed in, shutting the door behind him and folding his arms across his chest. “Where are you _really_ going?” He asked. “I won’t tell Castiel.” 

“Sure you won’t, because he hasn’t asked you to stop me leaving without his knowing about it, right?” Dean rolled his eyes. 

Kevin sighed. “You two are so up and down it makes me feel nauseous.” He complained. “I know you both love each other and I know that all this stuff that keeps happening is hardly your fault but it’s exhausting enough for me, god knows what it’s like for you.” 

Dean stayed silent in contemplation, not sure where the conversation was headed. He hadn’t exactly expected a heart to heart with his husband’s security chief, but then maybe Kevin would actually listen to him. He was a good judge of character, maybe he could help him out, here.

“I’m going to see Chuck.” Dean said suddenly, decision made. 

“See that sounds like a terrible idea.” Kevin breathed. “You’ll just end up pissing them both off. Why? Why do you feel like you need to go and see him?” 

“Because I don’t trust him.” Dean said simply, a strong conviction in his voice. He turned his head to look the security guard in the eye. “Maybe you don’t, either.” 

“It’s my job not to trust anyone.” Kevin pointed out, but Dean could see he’d hit a nerve, could see he wasn’t wrong. The security guard took a long, deep sigh, but wriggled himself into the seat and pulled the buckle around his lap while Dean watched him curiously, realising his intention to come with him. Kevin waved at the guy in the booth and the gate began to open. “Go on then, drive.” He said. 

Dean shot him a cautious look, but he pushed the lever into drive and slowly they began to move. He was wondering how to get around the next bit of conversation, because he knew that they couldn’t take Castiel’s plane without him finding out, and so his plan had been to pitch up at LAX and book the nearest flight. He didn’t know what Kevin would say, but luckily enough the security guard seemed to have the same thought. 

“If you don’t want him to know where we are then we have to fly commercial.” Kevin said, running a hand through his dark hair. Dean knew the security guard was on his side, because he normally wouldn’t betray Castiel for anything, and yet this was dancing dangerously close to it. 

Dean shot him a grateful look, which he returned. “Thank you, Kevin.” 

 

*

 

When the car they’d rented at the airport pulled up outside of the shabby house, Dean’s heart was racing and his stomach was turning. It felt terrible, all of it did. In his head, he could have been confronting John, could have been returning to his childhood and trying to stick up for himself against a man that had caused him so much pain, a man that still scared him so much. The fact that he was defending the man he loved instead only made it that much worse, and he was terrified of what might happen. But he would _not_ be scared into submission. Not again, not now he was older. He had to stand up for himself and every child in the world that was put through terrible things. 

The driver came to a slow stop, and Kevin reached for the door handle at the same time Dean did. “No.” Dean said suddenly, and Kevin shot him a curious glance. “No, it has to just be me.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Kevin protested. “I can’t let you go in there alone! What if something happens to you? Castiel would _never_ forgive me. And I’d never forgive myself. You’ve come here because you’re worried he might be dangerous.” 

“Yeah, I am. But he won’t bite if you’re there, just like he won’t if Cas is there. It has to just be me, Kevin, please, let me do this.” 

The security guard sucked in an irritable, ragged breath, glaring into Dean’s eyes with frustration. “Fine.” He said angrily. “He threatens you in any way and you get the fuck out of there. You signal me, or you call me, and I will come in and end it. But if literally anything happens to you… it is _not_ on me” 

Dean nodded, agreeing to the terms. He was relieved, because he knew it wouldn’t work if Kevin came with him, but he was scared too, and having the security guard at his side would have been a comfort. He took a deep breath, started the recording on his phone, and stepped out of the car. 

“Dean? What a surprise.” Chuck’s voice was higher pitched than usual, completely fake, suspicious, and slightly angry. “Do you want to come in?” 

The nerves were overwhelming, really. Dean could feel himself edging dangerously close to a break down already. A deep breath expelled some of his anxiety but this was a huge deal for him, confronting Chuck was a massive step when he’d spent his childhood beaten into submission. He already felt upset, already his limbs had a slight shake, and when he took a step through the door and into the threshold his legs felt wobbly. 

Chuck ushered him through to the living room, which was, if possible, even more unkempt than the last time he’d seen it. There were empty dishes and cups littered around the place, bits of paper and trash overflowing from the can. The carpet had a few new stains on it, and the place smelled like smoke and marijuana.  Chuck took a seat on the couch, and eyed Dean with narrow eyes until he’d sat down opposite him, wishing the leather wasn’t sticky because he’d worn nice jeans today. 

“So why have you come to see me, Dean?” Chuck asked. The strange thing about it was that his voice wasn’t matching his expression. His tone was lighter than it should have been, and if Dean had closed his eyes he would have assumed he sounded happy, pleased to see him, but the expression on his face was thunderous, eyes dark and narrow, features hard as stone. 

Dean sucked in a breath. He had to speak if this was going to work. “Because you’re Cas’s father, so I owe it to him to give you a chance.” He’d prepared that answer last night. It was tactical, calm, and addressed his mistrust without drawing all of the attention to it. 

Not all of it, at least, although it seemed like Chuck was going to bite anyway. He folded his arms across his chest defensively. “You don’t trust me, do you?” Chuck asked, and again his tone didn’t fit with the furious gaze on his face. It was like he knew he was being recorded. Was it that obvious a plan? If you listened back to this it would sound like a casual, calm conversation, not the tense and terrifying meeting it was in reality. 

“No, I don’t.” Dean admitted, clutching his chest a little tighter because it was getting a little bit harder to breathe. Chuck’s expression was freaking him out and he lost his nerve, so he added an addendum he hadn’t planned on out of cowardice. It would buy him a moment longer before the confrontation. “But I wouldn’t be offended. I find it hard to trust people.” 

“I can understand that. I know what you went through as a child. It has to be difficult for you to let anyone in, but you can let me in, Dean, I mean you no harm.” Chuck said, but despite his pledge that he meant no harm Dean took the sentence as a veiled threat. He might not be being obviously threatening, but the intention was in his eyes, and Dean choked. 

The lungs in his chest were starting to protest, no matter how hard he tried to stay strong. He couldn’t keep breathing for much longer. 

“Castiel doesn’t know you’re here, does he?” Chuck asked suddenly, and a horrible guilt flooded through Dean’s system. He was overwhelmed by shame and fear and terror all at the same time, because all he wanted in the world right now was his husband, but the version of him he'd had before Chuck came along, not this snarky, sarcastic man who he knew loved him but was being poisoned. His limbs shook a little harder and he squeezed his eyes shut as he shook his head, no. Dean opened his eyes again to look up into Chuck’s expression, suddenly alarmed to meet careful, concerned eyes rather than the vicious ones he thought he’d seen a moment before. 

This… it couldn’t be in his head… right? He had _actually_ just seen Chuck’s face looking at him with hatred and anger, yeah? He wasn’t seeing things, was he? The words he’d been hearing didn’t match the expression he’d thought he’d seen, though. Had there been veiled threats? Or was this guy actually concerned about him? Had he truly, finally gone mad? 

“I have to admit, Dean, I’m worried about you.” Chuck sighed, eyes still light and worried. Dean looked at him with more panic than he’d felt for a long time. “You don’t seem very stable. You’re not well at the moment, are you Dean?” 

Dean stayed silent, because he had no idea what to say. He’d been so sure. _So_ sure that Chuck was bad news, that he was out to destroy them and take advantage of Castiel. What if he _was_ being paranoid? What if Castiel, Charlie, and Naomi were all right? Had he completely lost it? Was this really brought on out of mistrust for his own father, and reliving his own childhood? 

“Dean, I think I should call Jimmy. Can I have your phone, please?” Chuck asked, and suddenly Dean remembered the recording and his heart sank, because he had to switch it off without Chuck finding it still running. 

“No.” Dean refused. 

“Please, Dean, your phone.” Chuck held out his hand, expression still gentle and concerned, and it was when he edged closer that Dean tipped over the edge. His last breath caught on his tongue. 

“No.” Dean repeated, and Chuck’s eyes narrowed immeasurably. This was the expression he thought he'd seen. It was the same one his father always wore. Whether this was in his head or not, Chuck had John’s potential, that much was certain. 

“Why, is there something on it that you don’t want me to see?” Chuck asked, a little more irritable now. “Are you recording this conversation? Are you _that_ desperate to come between me and my son? I’ve not been anything but nice to you.” 

It wasn’t even that Chuck was out of order, but it was more of an anger than he’d had from him since he’d arrived and Dean had been choking as it was. He tried to breathe, but to no avail, his lungs were steel inside his ribcage and his heart was trying to break free of its prison. He went rigid as Chuck strode towards him, and he was powerless to move as his father-in-law dipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone, irritably sliding the recording off and glaring angrily at him. 

“You really are as pathetic as you look on the tv.” Chuck snapped, and Dean could hear him but he couldn’t say for certain this wasn’t part of the nightmare he was descending into. “You’re so desperately unhappy that you’d ruin his chance at happiness.” Chuck turned away, breathing heavily himself and resisting an urge to hit something. He turned back to Dean with pure malice in his eyes, that Dean could see through the black dots that were clouding his vision now. 

“But then again.” Chuck whispered, leaning closer. “Maybe you were right all along.” He laughed, a wicked, horrible laugh that sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. Dean watched Chuck pull the phone up to his ear, and he knew that he’d lost. 

 

*

 

It was irritating enough when a call interrupted a shoot. It was even more irritating when it was Dean calling and he already knew that he’d be busy with a shoot. It did ring a couple of alarm bells though, because his husband wouldn’t usually call if he knew Castiel was occupied. He gave his apologies to the director and took the ringing phone from Naomi with a weird mix of trepidation and annoyance in his gut, lifting it up to his ear as he accepted the call.

“Dean, what’s going on? You know I’m in the middle of —”

“Jimmy?” The voice on the other end of the line was _not_ his husband’s. 

“Wait, dad?” Castiel asked, eyes narrowing. At his side Naomi looked alarmed, and Cas hurried away from her and down a corridor to somewhere more private. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Chuck sighed, he sounded unhappy. Why the _fuck_ was he calling from Dean’s phone? “Sorry to drop this on you but Dean’s here. He’s in a really bad way, son. I hate to tell you this because I don’t want you to think this is anything to do with me but you deserve to know the truth. He came here and started recording the conversation we had. I’m worried he’s lost it, Jim. I think he’s trying to come between me and you.” 

Castiel stared blankly at the wall in front of him because that was just too much to process. He tried to break it down slowly in his head, into pieces he could analyse individually. One: Dean’s in a bad way. No surprise there, really. He’d have to get him to talk tonight. Two: He was recording the conversation. Just how paranoid was he? Three: He’s trying to come between us. Why the hell would he do that? Was he getting jealous? Was he more controlling than he'd realised?

All of those thoughts rushed through Castiel’s head, and more besides, but all that he could think of to say was: “He…. what?” 

“Yeah… look, son, I’m sorry… I’ll —”

“—Dad just put Dean on the line, please? Not on speaker. I need to talk to him privately.” 

Chuck made a strange noise on the other end and Castiel’s blood started running cold. “Yeah, no can do, he’s not exactly responding right now.” 

“What do you mean he’s not responsive?” Cas was almost yelling down the phone now. His heart was beating like crazy and his own lungs felt a bit tight. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He needed to be with Dean so badly right now, why the fuck was he a thousand miles away? He wished he’d been better to him in the last few weeks. His mind raced, he had to be able to help somehow. “Is he having an attack? Shit. _Fuck_. Dad, can you look outside for me? Is there a car?” 

“Uh…” He could hear Chuck shuffling to the window on the other end of the line. “Yeah, there’s a car, and a young asian guy standing there too.” 

Cas sucked in a pissed off breath. “Fucking Kevin. Traitor. Dad I’ll call you later.” He said, and abruptly snapped off the phone.

 

*

 

A groan escaped the security guard’s lips as he wriggled himself against the BMW (the best they had been able to do on short notice). He was still in two minds about this whole thing, if he was honest. Because he hadn’t been given the opportunity to meet Chuck personally, it was hard for him to tell who was telling the truth. Was he enabling Dean’s paranoia and self-doubt and assisting in wedging apart his marriage, or was he helping Dean to prove that this guy was bad news? He didn’t know, but he trusted Dean’s judgement more than he'd realised he did until today. 

He had to admit, as he’d watched through the window for any sign of danger, that on the few occasions he’d spotted Chuck he looked a bit aggressive in the way he was talking. Whether that was his fault or Dean’s, he was unsure, because the mechanic-come-celebrity had certainly gone in there with one goal only and his opinion already made. 

It seemed to have gone quiet inside the house, at any rate. 

For a few more minutes he stood still, staring through the window and shifting his weight from one foot to the other in boredom and agitation. That was, at least, until his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He furrowed his brow, but when he pulled it out and the caller ID flashed his boss’s name his heart sank a bit. They’d been caught, he knew. His boss called him very rarely. 

“Yeah, hi?” Kevin said as he hit accept, wondering just how much of a fit he was going to get. 

“We _will_ be having words later.” Castiel snapped irritably from the other end of the line, and Kevin let out a slow breath. “But right now, I need you to go into that house, and get Dean the fuck out of there. He’s having an attack.” 

“He… you… what?” Kevin stuttered, because whatever he'd expected it wasn’t that. He took a few steps closer to the house and peered towards the window, but he couldn’t see anyone through it. 

“Just do it.” Cas demanded, so Kevin slipped his phone back into his pocket and tore up the pathway, pushing the door open without knocking. 

The house he entered was dirty and untidy. The air was stale, like tobacco and weed, and it had a shabby feel to it, like no one had decorated in the last twenty years. The old-fashioned wallpaper certainly seemed to suggest that was the case. He took a few gentle steps down the hallway, boots sticking to the carpet and turning his stomach. He wrinkled his nose as he glimpsed the kitchen and the piles of dishes on the counter. It was like walking into a college dorm. 

Kevin took a right turn, hoping that it would lead him to the window he'd glimpsed Chuck through. He passed through a dining room that was cleaner than the rest of the house, probably barely used, and a door at the other end led him through to his goal. He pushed the door open unceremoniously, on high alert with one hand feeling for the concealed weapon he wore at times to reassure himself. 

Chuck met his eyes, and Kevin’s mind was made up. Dean was right. The man scared him, and he was comfortable enough to admit that. His eyes were dark and angry, but there was a slight upturn on his lips that alarmed him. Chuck was enjoying this. Maybe it had been part of his plan all along, he really _was_ using Castiel for his fame and fortune, and he didn't seem to care if Dean became collateral damage to his plan. 

Without speaking, Kevin walked confidently straight past his boss’s father and over to the couch where Dean was collapsed in a shaking, unresponsive heap. Chuck said nothing as Kevin bent over him and lifted him up onto his feet. Dean wasn’t much help, but with strength he managed to get him upright and into a position where he could drag him. He said nothing, and Chuck didn’t speak either, as he started to walk and pulled Dean out of the dirty house. 

When he got to the car he lay his boss’s husband down across the backseat, shifting his legs so that he could pool in next to him. He yelled the command up to the driver, and soon they were moving again. Kevin groped in his pocket for his phone, and Castiel was still clinging onto the other end, breathing heavily. 

“I’ve got him.” Kevin said, but he wished his voice sounded more confident. That short encounter had shaken him up a little bit. Why the fuck hadn’t Castiel seen through that guy already? “He’s bad, Castiel. He’s barely breathing and his eyes are… kind of rolled back in his head.” 

He heard the pained noise his boss made and wished he’d been less stupid about this whole thing today. It had completely blown up in their face. “Hold the phone by him.” Castiel requested, and Kevin did, able to hear his boss’s loud breathing from where he sat, but it did nothing to help, and Dean lay there as lifeless as ever. At the lack of response, the breathing turned into pleas. 

Kevin gave it a few minutes before he pulled the phone back to his ear. “It’s not doing anything, Castiel.” 

“Stupid fucking phone.” His boss complained, and he could hear the pain in Castiel’s voice, knew he wanted nothing more than to be here with them. He loved Dean completely, that much was certain, and Chuck hadn’t manage to change that, not yet at least. “You’re on the way back, right? How long until the plane is… Kevin? Why didn’t I get a notification when you flew out?” 

Oh goddamn that fucking system. Not only had Cas asked his security team to keep tabs on Dean but he’d asked the pilot to let him know if Dean took the plane anywhere. “Because we didn’t take your plane.” Kevin breathed. “We flew commercial.” 

“You did what?” Castiel was seething, he knew, he was probably going to be punished for this in some way or another, and Dean definitely just lost sex tonight. 

“He didn’t want you to know he was coming here.” Kevin tried to explain, but it was a piss poor excuse and they both knew it. 

“And you were _ok_ with that?” Cas spat. 

“Hey, I’m not the boss. I just do what I’m told.” Kevin sighed, as if justifying all this to himself as well as his boss. 

“In case you’ve forgotten Dean’s not the boss either!” Cas yelled. “I asked you to tell me if he was heading anywhere for this exact fucking reason. And it’s me that pays your check!” 

Castiel was definitely more irritable recently, and Kevin knew exactly where his anger and new found voice was coming from now he’d met his father, however briefly. He _had_ to work with Dean to get this to stop, if he was ever allowed in the same room as him again. Maybe he should speak to Naomi about this, too. 

“You’ve never had a problem with Dean asking me for stuff before.” Kevin pointed out. “Look, the next flight back is in an hour —”

“—That’s way too long!” Cas protested, and Kevin knew that whatever else was going through his mind he was genuinely concerned for his husband’s wellbeing. “He needs help way sooner than that. Ugh. What if I get on the plane now? That would take the time down from what, four and a half hours, to probably three and a half?” Kevin could hear the cogs in his boss’s mind turning as he processed his options. “If you waited for me in Kansas… wait, you’re in Kansas! Call Jess! She’ll know what to do.” 

“I don’t have her…” Kevin began to say he had no means of contacting their sister-in-law, but as he did Dean’s eyes flashed open, and he sucked in a loud breath. The mechanic shook with nerves, and pulled his knees close to his chest as he backed into a corner of the backseat. “Don’t worry, Castiel, he’s back.” 

 

*

 

The entire time that Castiel knew Dean was on the plane, headed back to him, he felt agitated. He was impatient and irritable, and he’d pissed Naomi off enough that she’d gone home and left him to it. The shoot was a bust, and they’d had to call it a day because he just couldn’t hold it together no matter how hard he tried. He was angry, and worried, and frustrated, and upset, and he just needed his husband to be in his arms, although he wasn’t sure if that was so he could slap him or hold him. 

What the hell had Dean been thinking? It was like he was _trying_ purposefully to act out. Cas knew it would be a little weird for him, introducing a new father figure so late in life when the ones he’d known were pretty sub par, but _why_ had he made this such a big deal? Why did he have to interfere when things had been going so well (or so he’d thought)? He couldn’t help but become concerned for his husband’s state of mind. Even though Dean had been the more stable one, recently, he always had that tendency to blame himself for everything, and he would naturally be mistrustful and concerned, he supposed. Was Dean starting to become unwell again? Aside from that slip up for a few weeks when he’d first found out about Adam, he’d been good for so long now that Cas was starting to take it for granted, but it hadn’t been that long ago that his husband had been so damaged he’d have panic attacks every other week.

When the front door finally opened, Castiel was standing in front of it, having seen the car pass through the gates via the intercom camera. It swung open, and Cas was relieved to see that his husband was holding himself up with no support, that his features were set and his eyes were determined, if a little red rimmed, as if he might have cried his way through the flight. Dean took a step forward, refusing to meet Castiel’s eyes, and with conviction he walked forward, taking the stairs and heading straight up to the bedroom without a word. 

Kevin followed behind him, but hovered in the hallway, watching Dean traipse upstairs with a concerned expression. Cas turned to look at his chief of security and sighed, long and deep. He was pissed off at their secret trip, but he was glad at least that Kevin hadn’t let his husband go unattended. He would be having words though, about who was in charge and who he was supposed to be taking orders from in the future. 

As Castiel looked away, and went to move in the direction of the stairs, ready to follow Dean and talk to him, Kevin stepped suddenly forward and gripped his arm. 

“Cas?” The security guard seemed nervous, and he never used the shortened version of his name, only Dean, Sam, Jess and Charlie really ever called him Cas, so it was weird to hear it come from his lips. 

“Yeah?” Castiel looked back at him with a confused expression. He would always value Kevin’s opinion. His insight and instinct had been why he’d been promoted to chief of security. 

“Go easy on him.” Kevin said quietly, and Cas narrowed his eyes a little, purely out of petulance. 

“Why should I?” He asked, a little irritable, and shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to the other. 

Kevin sucked in a deep breath. “Because he’s not well at all, he’s not right. And it’s your fault as much as your father’s. I don’t care what your dad says to you, Castiel, it’s not one sided. He doesn’t like Dean, for whatever reason, that much was clear.” 

The truth always sounds harsher coming from the mouth of someone you trust. Cas knew that Kevin was on his side, but the words he said weren’t what he wanted to hear at all, and it made the sting worse. Neither man seemed to know what to say next, and eventually, Kevin dropped his gaze, sighed, and walked away. Castiel took a brief moment just to be alone, his worries and doubts overwhelming him and for a second it seemed to him that Dean could be right, that maybe his dad was poisoning his mind, but the thought soon cleared, and he realised it was more likely that his husband was unwell and needed his support. He turned back to the staircase, and ascended. 

 

* 

 

“I don’t want to talk.” Dean said firmly as he watched his husband come into their bedroom. “I don’t… I can’t.” 

Castiel sighed as he reached the bed, pulling the comforter back enough just to climb in himself. He lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling and not meeting Dean’s eyes, maybe he couldn’t, maybe he didn’t want to. Having him here but not being able to reach out and touch him was breaking Dean. He knew he’d fucked up today. He knew he’d made matters worse than ever. He also knew he couldn’t trust his own mind any more. 

“I can’t tell what’s real.” Dean blurted suddenly, his whole body shuddering. He hadn’t meant for it to come out, wasn’t in the right frame of mind to talk things through properly, but apparently his mouth had other ideas. As he spoke, Cas turned his head to look him in the eye, and it hurt even more to see that his husband was just fed up. Like he was some kid that just kept acting out. Cas looked like he’d gone through his angry stage and come around to exasperation. It was like disappointment, and worse than frustration. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything any more.” 

With a deep breath, his husband rubbed his hands over his face before looking back at him again, but when he did the eyes Dean saw were kinder. “It’s alright, Dean. But please, _please_ just talk to me in the future.” Cas begged. 

“I don’t feel like I can.” Dean admitted, and he could see how much it hurt his husband to hear that particular truth. 

“You will always be able to talk to me.” Cas reassured him, a hand coming out to gently grip Dean’s arm in support. “Always.” He sighed. “What were you hoping to achieve?” 

“I just don’t trust him.” Dean chewed down on his lip, because he was so scared to tell his husband the truth in case it turned into another fight. No matter what Cas said, it was incredibly difficult to talk at the moment, because the man in front of him was tainted and manipulated. 

Castiel sighed. “I gathered that much. But why? And don’t you trust me? Don’t you trust my judgement?” 

In all honesty, after today, Dean didn’t know. He was still trying to process his conversation with Chuck, still unsure what really happened and whether the things he thought he’d heard were a nightmare or reality. It was all blurring together with his fear. Had he made it all up in his head? Or did Chuck truly call him pathetic and tell him to his face that he’d been right all along? Was that laugh a product of his worst dream, or the bitter truth? He could have sworn it was real. 

“I might be seeing things, Cas.” Dean said, and his husband’s face grew instantly more concerned. “But I can’t say for sure. I thought I knew he was bad… I thought I was recognising it from what I went through. I’m really not sure what’s real. But I don’t trust him, I don’t. Not that I trust myself either…” 

As Dean trailed off Castiel inhaled slowly, as if unsure how to proceed. His hand reached out and cupped Dean’s cheek gently, the thumb stroking along his jawline. “Do you know what _is_ real, Dean?” He smiled, and Dean shook his head lightly. “My love for you.” 

Although Dean leant forward and nuzzled his forehead against his husband’s cheek, he didn’t feel able to cry. He didn’t feel anything at all, in fact. The empty sensation took him back to his youth, and he felt the same as he had done way back then, hollow and cold. It had happened the last time the pain had been too much for him to handle, and back then he’d been sure that Castiel didn’t love him back, while managing his regular abuse. This time? This time he might have his husband but he couldn’t be sure the love was real, and Chuck may be the new John. 

“I can’t feel anything.” He said, because maybe admitting it would help the horrible feeling to go away. Cas looked up, alarm and concern written in his features, and Dean just stared emptily back at him. 

“What?” Castiel said in response, his hand still stroking Dean’s cheek. His eyes had narrowed, and Dean knew he was worried, but how could he reassure him when he was so scared himself? 

“Will you fuck me?” Dean asked, knowing he was hedging his bets, but he couldn’t think of another way to get rid of this horrible sensation. 

At the question, Castiel let out a little laugh. “What?” His husband repeated. 

“Fuck me, Cas, _please_.” Dean said again, completely serious. 

Castiel’s eyes narrowed a little, and he looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. He had, probably. “Dean, no.” 

“Cas, please. I have to feel something.” Dean begged. He wasted no time in pushing forwards, planting his lips firmly against his husband’s and teasing them apart. Cas kissed him cautiously back, letting his mouth open only a gentle amount, but Dean knew he was finding it difficult to hold back when he started to attack him more ferociously. Cas pulled away moments later to see Dean staring at him with bright, wide eyes that only wanted him, and Dean knew he was having second thoughts. But soon Cas snapped, reasoning with himself that it couldn’t hurt, and he kissed Dean with intensity. 

Hands made quick work of clothes and before long both men were lying in their boxers, rutting helplessly against each other. Dean took a long time to get hard, but when he did he went wild. It had been a while since they’d had such passion, since one of their more recent arguments in fact, and Cas was clutching his husband’s ass with desperation as he ground their hips together and moaned at the sensation of Dean’s hard cock dragging against his own through fabric. He pulled his lips away from his husband’s to concentrate on Dean’s earlobe and Dean gasped, mouth hanging open as Cas breathed against the wet skin and sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. 

Dean wanted, no, _needed_ , Cas to take control over him, to dominate him like he so often would in bed. He needed to be shown how loved he was, how cared for. He needed Cas to comfort him and support him. 

“Use the cuffs.” Dean said against his husband’s neck, and he felt Castiel’s cock twitch at the suggestion. His husband looked him in the eye, as if asking if he thought it was a good idea, but when Dean nodded he broke, desire getting the better of him, and he pulled quickly away to rummage in the table drawer, pulling the handcuffs out seconds later and roughly trapping his husband’s hands behind his back. 

With his free hands, Cas pulled Dean’s boxers down and off, and licked his lips at the sight of the cock that stood thick and ready. Dean groaned as he followed Castiel’s eye, and Cas grinned as he bent down, trailing a tongue up the inside of Dean’s thigh and making him twitch. The tongue met Dean’s balls while he gasped, and he was holding in a beg when it licked up his cock and lapped at the slit, Castiel’s lips kissing the head. 

At Castiel’s command, Dean turned over onto his front, finding it difficult to lift his ass in the air for his husband without the use of his hands. Cas assisted, pulled Dean’s ass toward him as he marvelled at the sight of his tight, pert cheeks presented for his use. Cas kissed Dean’s pretty butt with his lips, and his tongue found its way between the cheeks, licking over his hole while Dean moaned. 

When Cas pushed his tongue gently inside, Dean gasped, and in response, Cas shoved a finger in to join it, stretching him open as he pressed in deeper, his husband crying out under him. Dean couldn’t believe how amazing it felt when Cas rolled his tongue back along a particularly sensitive spot, and he was relieved that his senses weren’t permanently numbed by his pain. 

Over the next few, agonising minutes, Dean was stretched open and stimulated and he was shivering by the time Cas pulled his head back. When he heard Cas jacking himself back to full mast his cock twitched, and he shuddered as he felt the thick head of his husband’s cock propped against his hole. Castiel wasted no time before pressing inside him, his hand on Dean’s back and pressing his face against the pillows. They both groaned as they adjusted, and when Dean shoved his ass back a little Cas began to slowly move, pounding into him with a little more force and slowly picking up speed, their balls slapping together with a tantalising tease of pain.

Dean was fucked for way longer than he usually would have been before coming, but the sensation just wasn’t ready. He could feel it, simmering under the surface, but it hadn’t made it’s way to the forefront and he knew his husband was frustrated that he hadn’t come already. Cas was beginning to struggle to hold back, he knew, his speed slowing every now and again as he fought off an orgasm he wasn’t ready to give in to. Despite the perfect angle and the constant slamming of his prostate Dean just couldn’t let go. 

“Come for me, baby, please.” Cas begged, and he dipped a hand around to work Dean’s cock too, but it was no use. 

“I can’t, Cas.” Dean whispered, and at the admission his husband became obviously frustrated, and picked up his pace to a furious level, smashing into him time and time again, bringing Dean almost to the edge but not close enough. It wasn’t long before Cas was choking on air, and he felt his husband’s hips begin to stutter, eventually coming to a stop as Cas moaned with his release and filled him inside. He was obviously frustrated though, and after his cock had stilled he pulled straight out and tipped Dean’s weight onto his side, spooning him from behind as his hand found his cock again. 

As Castiel roughly pumped his cock he kissed his cheek, his ear, his jaw, and when he was still going a minute later, Cas brought his other hand underneath his husband to stroke his balls. It was taking time, but Dean knew he was getting there now. He let his head fall back onto Castiel’s shoulder and as the wave started to approach he shivered. He felt so scared and overwhelmed, that even the love he was being shown wasn’t helping him. A tear made its way down his cheek, and when he finally hit his orgasm he cried, his mouth hanging open as his cock shot his load over the sheets, muscles tensing while Castiel’s come squeezed out of his ass and smeared over his husband’s legs. 

At least he could feel something now, but all that was there was pain. 

A while after they’d cleaned up, and they still hadn’t said a word to each other. Dean knew by looking into his husband’s eyes that he felt sour and concerned, maybe even disgusted by the things they’d just done to feel something. It was hurting to see Castiel's pain when his own was so strong. 

They were lying together again on the bed, still naked, half covered by the sheets and half letting the air con cool their warm bodies. Dean turned his head to meet Castiel’s eyes, and he took a deep breath, handing his husband his phone. “Listen to the recording.” He pleaded. “Tell me if it’s in my head.” 

Castiel did as instructed, but he was no closer to an answer. There was no solid proof one way or the other on the tape. Dean came across as scared and delusional, and his father was irritable and judgemental, but neither was right and neither was wrong. Castiel was stuck. Dean _could_ be sane, but he could just as easily be crazy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I hope 2018 is good to you all! x


	27. Can We Please Just Talk it Over Love?

**Can we please just talk it over, love?**

Won't you help me out,

With all of these things that I can't talk about?

  
****

It had been like living in a nightmare. Now that he couldn’t trust his mind, Dean didn’t know what to believe. It was only getting worse, too. Since he’d been to Kansas alone he hadn’t been back, but Castiel had. Cas seemed to be spending every spare second away from him as if he couldn’t stand to be near him. They were arguing like crazy, throwing cheap shots at each other out of anger and bitterness, and Dean couldn’t fight back, now. All he could do was roll over and accept it, because he didn’t know how crazy he was. 

One of the most difficult things to handle throughout this hellish experience, second only to his wildly volatile husband and the pain he was causing, was the media. So far so good, the super-injunction that Naomi had arranged was holding, and the wider world was being kept entirely unaware that Chuck even existed, but when it was the only thing on his mind, having to pretend it wasn’t happening was a real challenge for Dean. 

It was going against everything he usually did. Normally, Dean was honest about his experiences, and the world by now knew all of his secrets. But for once, the secrets he was hiding didn’t belong to him, and he couldn’t talk, didn’t want to talk, either. But what in hell could he talk about instead? 

The woman in front of him had dark hair that faded in an ombré to a light blonde. Dark, pencilled brows, perfect red lipstick. She wasn’t unattractive, but it was more makeup than Dean liked. Her clothes were fashionable and finely pressed, and she sat with an air of importance, her painted nails folded neatly over each other in her lap, her legs crossed. When he answered another question with a short response, which was so unlike him, her eyebrows furrowed, and he knew he wasn’t giving her what she wanted. It wasn’t the first time he’d met her, she was writing a magazine article and they’d done this routine once before, some time last year, but where their conversation had flowed naturally last time, this time he was stunting it on purpose, and he got the impression that she could tell.   

“So no news in the life of Hollywood’s favourite couple?” She asked, smiling brightly in an attempt to get him to ease up. The honest part of him wanted to yell, wanted to complain and shout about the asshole that was probably whispering right now in his husband’s ear (Castiel was once again in Kansas today), but the part of him that was self-conscious and hurting wanted to hide away instead. He couldn’t talk anyway, so he just drew his shoulders back and crossed his arms, subconsciously pulling away in defence. 

“No, no news.” 

 

*

 

To say that interview had been a car crash would have been giving it a better rating than it deserved. Naomi watched from the side of the room, tapping her fingers irritably at the sight of Dean struggling to hold himself together. It was obvious to the entire room how much pain he was in, the poor man had none of his husband’s acting skill at all. 

They eventually called it a wrap, and when they did, she watched Dean try to smile at the interviewer, who smiled back cautiously. Her heart was breaking for him, but she couldn’t admit it. Ever since Kevin had taken her aside last week, she’d been on high alert. She trusted the security guard’s judgement almost as much as she trusted her own, it had been one of the reasons she’d recommended Castiel promote him to chief when she did, and so when he’d told her of his concerns about their boss’s biological father, she’d started taking Dean’s concerns more seriously. 

“Is he ok?” The interviewer was in front of her, and she snapped back to the present to take in the confusion in her eyes. She shot her gaze hesitantly to the spot that Dean had just been filling, but he’d already left the room, hiding away with a bottle, she expected. 

“He’s been a little unwell for the past couple of days. I don’t think he’s been feeling the best.” Naomi said, the excuse was a poor one but it would cover him at least. She’d wanted to talk to Dean properly for a few days now, and she’d decided now that it was time. “Excuse me.” She said, as she gestured her head to Kevin and they made their way from the room. 

“You gunna talk to him?” Kevin asked, as soon as they were alone in the confines of the house. The other staff would see out the magazine team. 

Naomi shot the security chief a look, nodding her head slowly. “ _We’re_ going to talk to him.” She corrected, and Kevin sucked in a breath. “I just need to decide where to begin.”

It was a few minutes before they actually knocked at the door to the bar, because Naomi had been weighing up options in her mind before finally settling on one. Kevin had watched her warily, would have preferred not to be a part of this conversation because, like he kept pointing out, he was _not_ a therapist. His job entailed keeping them alive, not keeping them sane, but somehow he kept getting roped into these things. 

Regardless of his job title, he followed when Naomi walked into the bar. Dean was sat towards the back of the room, perched on a stool, head in his hands. It was obvious that he was upset, but he was holding his pain inside as he nursed a glass of scotch. They neared the mechanic, and while Naomi took the stool next to him, Kevin remained standing. 

“What’s going on with you?” Naomi asked, and Kevin wondered if her tactic was to plead ignorant. “Is this still about Chuck?” 

The shrug that Dean gave off was non-committal, and both Kevin and Naomi were of the impression that he was hardly even registering that they were there, let alone that they were trying to help. Naomi sighed, getting a little irritable. How in hell were they supposed to get through to Castiel if his own husband had surrendered the war? 

“Dean, buck up and fight, will you?” She snapped angrily, and Dean turned to meet her eyes with surprise and confusion in his own. It soon turned to defensiveness, but she held in her smile, because she knew that if he was still getting irritable over this then they still had hope. 

“Why should I? No one listens to me anyway.” Dean complained, voice rising with his frustration. He nodded his head towards Kevin. “He listened to me, and he got in trouble. You didn’t listen, Cas won’t listen.” 

“Ok.” Naomi held her hands up in mock-surrender. She had the mechanic riled, and right where she wanted him. “What do you want me to listen to, Dean? Tell me.” 

The mechanic rolled his eyes, chewing his lips in something of a strop. “He’s bad news, Nay, and you know it.” He muttered, and he looked over at Kevin as if asking for backup. 

The security guard then looked away from him, turning his pointed gaze to Naomi instead, and a cold feeling erupted in her gut, the same one that had boiled there when Kevin had spoken to her last week. Kevin shuffled uncomfortably through the awkward silence, but he did eventually nod. “I have gotta take his side on this one, Nay, something doesn’t feel right.” 

Naomi sucked in a breath, because she’d known how he would respond, yet it made the threat seem more real when they were banding together. Dean smiled gratefully at Kevin’s support, and turned his eyes back to her. 

“Dean, I don't _know it_ myself, because I’ve not met him.” She said, trying to be tactful. “And that’s why I’m relying on you to fight for Castiel. But you seem to have given up on that.” 

“I didn’t want to give up!” Dean almost shouted, and she braced herself, because apparently she’d been far from tactful. “I want to fight for him! He’s my husband! Of course I want to fight. But everyone keeps telling me I’m crazy. Maybe _I am_ crazy. I can’t even tell any more!”

The man in front of her looked like he could go on, like he had a hundred pent up doubts and insecurities inside of him that he wanted to scream out, but she couldn’t afford a complete meltdown, not when the press were inside the house. “Dean.” She said firmly, putting a hand out to his arm and calming him instantly down. “What do you _honestly_ think this is about? _Is_ this about you? I know you’ve been unwell before, so do you feel like that again now? Or _is_ this about Chuck?” 

Dean paused, sucking in air and running an irritable hand through his hair. It worried her how much he had to think about his answer. “I know it’s about Chuck.” He said, but there wasn’t much conviction in his unsteady tone. 

“You’re sure about this?” Naomi asked, holding her breath. 

The look he gave her then was full of pain. “Naomi, I know he’s bad.” He said quietly, and behind them Kevin shuffled uncomfortably. 

“How do you know?” She asked, because she needed proof to be able to work with this. 

Dean didn’t seem to understand that though, and as if he was threatened, he started to yell. “Because I just do!” He shouted. “Because I’m the one person who’s been through it and I can see the signs, Nay, they’re fucking everywhere! Cas can’t see it because he’s so damned vulnerable it blinds him. He wants a father, he wants what he never had, but I can see it, and when I was alone with Chuck he was a different person to the one he is around Cas. He said things, Nay, things that I just can’t tell Cas about. He wouldn’t believe me anyway, Chuck’s got him wrapped around his finger. He’s in his head. He’s always whispering all this poisonous shit and we’re arguing constantly and if anything’s making me crazy it’s that. I’m right about this, Nay, I’m sure of it.” 

By the time Dean had gone silent, Naomi’s eyes were wide and she was more scared than she could let on. She hadn’t realised how bad things had gotten, didn’t know that they were arguing so much over this and how Dean was suffering because of it. Her heart went out to the mechanic, because something really had to give, here, and he was shaking now, trying not to let out the tears that were held in the brim of his eyes. _He wouldn’t believe me anyway_. Dean had said. Naomi wasn’t convinced Dean believed himself, either. 

“What did Chuck say to you, Dean?” She asked quietly, offering out a hand that he tangled gratefully within his own. 

The tears spilled. “That I’m pathetic.” Dean choked. “That I’m trying to come between them. That I don’t want Cas to be happy because I’m not happy myself.” 

It was a bit too much to bear, and Naomi leant forward, wrapping her arms around his back as he melted against her, sobbing into her shoulder. She whispered reassurances for a few minutes until he’d stilled, and when he pulled back she shot him a small smile. 

“I feel so sure about it.” Dean began cautiously. “But… what if it is in my head, Nay? What if I _am_ crazy?” 

She sighed, because she couldn’t rely on him to fight or be reasonable if he was this broken. “Then we get you help.” She said. “But Dean, right now, Castiel needs our help, and I need you to stay strong for him.” She smiled. “The next time you’re going to visit Chuck, I’ll come too. I think it’s time I get involved, because whether this is in your imagination or not, you’re not coping with this on your own. You need some support from _someone._ ”

Dean nodded, a fresh tear skating his cheek. “Thank you, Naomi.” 

 

*

 

As the sight of the ceiling faded into his vision, Castiel grabbed at his face. His breathing was heavy and his hands were shaking, and although the dark grey of the room was in focus now, all he could see were the images his mind had just replayed, of Dean, his loving and loyal husband, all the good times they spent together. He’d relived their childhood tonight as if it was yesterday, watched himself fall in love all over again, been reminded of the amazing qualities the man he loved possessed. Of his strength, his kindness, his humour, his protectiveness. His loyalty most of all. 

He was crying, he knew. Cas wiped away tears from his cheeks even though they were still falling. His heart was still full of the love he’d just been reminded of, but now all he could think of was the anger and pain they’d shared in their last few weeks. Where had it all gone wrong? He let out a long breath that shuddered through him, chewing down on his bottom lip in an attempt to still it. 

Although he wouldn’t admit it to his husband, Castiel was scared. Terrified, in fact. He was doing a pretty poor job recently —ok, a terrible job— at proving to Dean that he still loved him, but a lot of his acting out was out of fear. His mind held a thousand doubts, and each ate away at him every second of every day. He was scared, and he was just too much of a coward to admit that. 

The depths of his conscious mind taunted him constantly. And his thoughts were plagued. Was Dean crazy? Would he ever grow to accept his father? Two of the biggest questions stood out against the rest. A third question screamed even louder. Was Dean about to leave him? 

Castiel choked, struggling to drag the air down. He still hadn’t looked to his side, because he was completely petrified that Dean might have left in the night. His panic was overwhelming, and it was impossible to hold himself together when he was feeling like this. He shook and sobbed for a moment or so longer, before forcing his head to look to his right. 

The relief that washed through him at the shape of his sleeping husband still next to him was something else. Cas melted as he broke down in another wave of sobs, but his husband, who had been sleeping badly for weeks, didn’t even stir as he shuffled into him and wrapped his arms around his frame. Cas buried his head against Dean’s chest, sucking in slow breaths to try and calm himself down, but when Dean readjusted in his sleep and draped an arm over Castiel’s back he cried even harder. Even in sleep Dean was still here for him, even after everything he’d said and done in the last weeks. 

So, the question really, was why? Why had he been acting like he had? Why was Cas finding issue with every word to come out of his husband’s mouth? Why had they been arguing 24/7 since Chuck came into their lives? 

A thought ghosted through Castiel’s head, and Cas could hear the conversation as if it was happening again. _I get the impression he’s a bit controlling. Are you really happy?_ One thing was for certain, whether Chuck had intended it like Dean insisted, or meant it as an offhand comment, it had succeeded in turning Castiel’s mind. The more Cas thought about it, the more he realised how much stock he’d put in it. But it wasn’t true, was it? Dean wasn’t controlling in the least, Charlie had been completely right about that. 

It wasn’t his father’s fault, he was sure. He could get how Dean’s protectiveness and defensiveness could come across as controlling, but that’s how Dean had always _had_ to be. He couldn’t expect outsiders to understand that. But it had tainted his opinion, and he’d let it. It was never his intent or Chuck’s, neither of them had set out to destroy his image of the man he loved, but a simple question had whittled away at it all the same. He had to get himself together before Dean walked out of his life for good. It was only a matter of time if he kept acting like he was. 

How long he lay there, cuddled into Dean’s body and trying to cry himself back to sleep he didn’t know, but nothing was working. He tried calming himself down with breathing and tried to force himself to recite his lines, but there was no success. Cas groaned, because what the hell could he do? All he really wanted was for Dean to be awake, but he couldn’t bring himself to wake him when this might have been the most solid sleep he’d had in weeks. 

Eventually, Cas caved. He pulled reluctantly away from Dean’s warm body and dragged himself out of the bed. He picked up a t-shirt and a pair of old sweatpants, hastily pulling them on before he slipped out of the bedroom and made his way slowly downstairs. He needed to stay in this state of mind, needed to feel happy and in love, and there was only one thing that would fit with his needs right now. 

When he’d set up the TV, Cas curled into the couch with a blanket. More tears were falling from his eyes, but he couldn’t care less. All he was focusing on were the two happy faces on the screen as they said their vows, on the overwhelming love in Dean’s eyes as he’d said _I do_. 

Why had he risked this? Dean was everything he’d ever wanted. His whole life. 

The whole of the ceremony had played before Castiel was disturbed. At the sound of the door opening, he jolted his head up, eyes meeting those of his husband’s and staring carefully at him as if he might suddenly run, scream, or yell. But Dean did none of those things. He hovered in the doorway, his expression one of confusion and alarm, and when he’d studied the distress in Castiel’s eyes, Cas watched his gaze trail to the TV and back, calculating, uncertain. He edged forward a step, nervous, hesitant. 

“You ok?” Dean asked quietly, barely louder than a whisper, but plenty loud enough for Cas to hear given it was the dead of night and the house was in silence. 

Castiel sniffed, and wiped his cheek with the edge of the blanket. “Yeah.” He lied, because he didn’t want to go into the reason why he wasn’t.

It was pretty damned obvious that Dean wasn’t buying it, just like it was pretty damned obvious that Cas was not, in fact, ok. But clearly Dean felt awkward enough to ignore the elephant in the room, and so he shuffled uncomfortably where he stood. “Couldn’t sleep?” He suggested. 

“No.” Castiel shook his head. 

Dean’s gaze once again shifted back to the TV, which Cas had paused on a frame of the two of them looking at each other with the broadest of smiles. They looked so happy and complete, but Cas couldn’t look back at it again or he’d cry. Right now, Dean just looked entirely perplexed, but that part of his expression dropped, and underneath it only sadness remained.

“I thought you’d gone to Kansas without me again.” He admitted, unable to meet Castiel’s eyes.

The admission was too much, and Castiel broke down on the spot, his heart thumping heavily with all of his pain and his lungs aching where he was struggling so hard to breathe. More tears fell from his eyes, but he hid his face with his hands so his husband wouldn’t see, as if the chokes escaping his lips wouldn’t give him away. A minute or so later, when he pulled one hand away, it all felt a little better, because Dean had joined him on the couch, sitting close to him, staring at him intently with an expression of concern and confusion. 

“I’m sorry.” Castiel sobbed. “Dean, I’m so, _so_ sorry.” 

The worst part about his apology was how badly his husband took it. Cas watched Dean’s eyes, and it killed him to see that Dean was bracing himself, like he thought Cas was apologising because he was about to end them. He couldn’t bear to see that uncertainty, and wondered how in hell he’d been so much of an ass that his husband doubted he loved him. Cas pushed forward without further warning, throwing his arms around Dean’s neck and pulling him close. His husband wrapped his own arms in response around Castiel’s middle, and when Cas kissed his cheek he felt Dean’s lips meet his temple in response. 

“I’m so, so sorry.” Cas repeated, and he was relieved that Dean matched every kiss he left on his skin for one of his own, and when he slowly let go to pull back and meet his husband’s eyes, Dean dived quickly in to kiss his forehead too. 

“What’s all this about?” Dean asked, hesitant. 

“I’ve been such an ass, Dean. You were right about that. I’m just so sorry.” Cas said, half begging his husband’s forgiveness. He’d get down on his knees if he thought it would make a difference. “I was so scared that when I woke up you’d be gone. I’m surprised I haven’t lost you already.”

After a slow sigh, Dean snaked a hand to the back of Castiel’s neck, leaving his skin tingling at his touch. He leant forward, gently resting their foreheads together, and with a small smile, he looked down between them at their entwined hands. Dean’s thumb darted out, pulling back gently, just enough that he could stroke the golden band Cas wore on his left hand. 

“This ring means you’ll have to do a lot worse to lose me.” Dean smiled, and Cas felt himself melting once again, his limbs beginning to tremble as another bout of sobs overcame him. 

“But… all that stuff with my dad and—” He protested. 

“—Don’t, Cas. Don’t talk about that now.” Dean said, a plea. “Please, just… let’s just be us for a little while? Without the complications? Can we just declare a truce for tonight?” 

Castiel chewed down on his lip, his concern obvious, but he nodded. “You’re still the best thing in my life, Dean, and I can’t be without you.” He said quietly. 

By this point Dean’s eyes were brimming with tears too, and he looked relieved as well as alarmed. He pulled in a long breath to hold himself together, and a smile crossed his lips. “The feeling is mutual.” He whispered. 

With only a nod of his husband’s head, Cas understood. He let Dean spin him around so that his back was resting against his husband’s chest, relished in the feel of the two strong arms that wrapped around him, hummed in pleasure as Dean pressed kisses into his hair as he hit the resume button on the TV remote, and sat in a calm, comfortable silence as they watched their reception.

“You have been my constant, my always, and I hope, Dean, that you will be my forever.” Castiel said, the one on the screen. Cas watched himself say the words, could see the pure happiness in his eyes, still felt the sentiment to the bottom of his heart. He clutched his husband’s arms closer, and could feel Dean’s tears in his hair, continuing to fall as the video went on.

“Our path hasn’t exactly been easy.” Said the Dean on the screen. The Dean behind him sniffed in a half chuckle, and Cas kissed his arm. “But it’s been ours, and it wouldn’t have been right if it had been plain sailing, because that’s not who we are. “ 

Dean shifted and Cas turned his head to meet his eyes. “We’re messy and complicated.” He said, in unison with his on-screen counterpart.

Castiel sighed, but there was a smile on his lips to match the one on his husband’s. As Dean bent down to kiss him softly, Castiel felt reassured that whatever happened between them, Dean loved him, and always would. 

By the time the video had reached its end, Cas felt more at peace than he had in a while. Dean stroked through his husband’s hair for a few minutes as they sat in a still silence, until Cas finally turned back to look at him, eyes full of a sorrow they hadn’t held a moment before. 

“What happens tomorrow?” Cas asked quietly. “What happens when we have to talk again?” 

Dean sighed, his eyes flooding with a new regret. “I guess we argue some more.” He said honestly. “But I know you love me, Cas, and you know that I love you.” 

Cas nodded, a thoughtful expression through his features. “I know I’m being an ass sometimes, Dean.” He whispered. “I don’t mean… I’m just getting upset easily.” 

“I know.” Dean smiled. “And I know I’m not making it any easier for you. But whatever happens, none of this is about how I feel about you. That hasn't changed.” He promised. “And it won’t ever.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will probably be on Tuesday! Hope you're all holding up ok. The angst will end, hang in there!


	28. Relationships and Hearts You Fixed, They Break as Well

**Relationships and hearts you fixed, they break as well,**

And ain't nobody wanna see you down in the dumps,

Because you're living your dream, man, this shit should be fun.

 

Things did get a little easier, for a while there anyway. 

Following Castiel’s little breakdown a few nights ago, tensions between Dean and his husband had definitely reduced. They were still snapping at each other, still having the odd moment of arguing and pointing the finger, but in comparison to what things had been like, they were definitely better. Every time Dean caught Castiel’s eye he could see exactly what he was thinking, that things were slowly improving, that perhaps he had a chance of getting his husband to accept his father and living a life of harmony.

Maybe not harmony, and maybe his husband was a little deluded. Dean had no intention of accepting Chuck, was set in his determination that the man was good for nothing and out to destroy them, but he knew in his heart he’d been going about his attack in the wrong way. Cas wouldn’t respond to it if he thought Dean was doing this out of petulance, jealousy, or malice. He had to get Chuck to show his true colours, and if that meant waiting, then wait he would. Now that Naomi and Kevin had joined his side, even if just as support, Dean felt like he could stand a little taller. 

Only a little, though. 

Today, they were headed back to Kansas. It was the first time Cas had invited him since that initial meet up, and the first time Dean was going to see Chuck since he’d turned up alone to try and catch him out. He was dreading it. Completely dreading it. All he could think of when he pictured Chuck was John’s eyes, and how they had the same, terrifying expression, the same intimidating stature. He couldn’t have said no, though. If he said no, Cas might not have invited him again. And Naomi had shot him a look, because she’d needed to be able to accompany them so she could get a feel for what they were up against. He had to go, but that didn’t mean he had to look forward to it. 

 

*

 

As they took their adjoining seats on the plane, Cas shot his husband a smile, which Dean returned weakly. He wriggled himself comfortable in the leather recliner, fishing in the pocket for the book he was currently reading, and opened it up to the page he’d got to on his last flight out. He’d almost forgotten how to act around his husband, it seemed like they’d been at odds for so long. But he tried not to let that bother him as he concentrated on the words on the page while the engine started up. 

It was only when he heard the whimpered name — their manager’s name — leave his husband’s lips that he bothered to look in his direction. Cas eyed Dean with confusion, because why had he suddenly gone so white? And why was he clammy and wide eyed and looking completely terrified? 

He watched with confusion and a little alarm as Naomi offered a hand out to squeeze Dean’s, as his husband looked to her for support instead of him. He almost felt a little jealous, but it definitely reminded him how poor of a husband he’d been recently, so he said nothing as he was left feeling guilty and sour. He just watched, as Naomi buried her other hand deep in her purse and pulled out a thin strip of pills, popping one into Dean’s palm. He threw it back without question, his eyes lingering on Naomi’s before he slammed them shut as the plane began to move. 

The overwhelming emotion that swarmed Castiel’s heart then was his guilt. Save for that one flight when they’d been headed out to meet Adam, he hadn’t seen his husband need pills to fly for a long while. What the hell else had he missed?

Cas swallowed, biting down on his lip because he felt so damned awful and neglectful. Just before the plane rounded the corner onto the runway he caved in to his horrible emotions. Cas dropped his book rather unceremoniously, and opened his arms out wide, tapping Dean on the shoulder. Dean just looked at him in confusion, just stared at him like he couldn’t tell he was offering a hug, like it wasn’t something they’d ever done before. Cas tried not to notice how much that hurt. 

After a moment of staring, Dean’s relief broke through his expression, and he was wary about it, but he tucked his head down onto Castiel’s shoulder and breathed out a sigh as Cas enveloped him in his arms. So Cas just held him, kept him firmly close as the plane accelerated up into the sky, and kept his arms tightly around him until they’d touched back down to the ground hours later. 

 

*

 

By the late afternoon, Dean had almost had enough. He knew he’d been quiet today, but why shouldn’t he be? He’d noticed the weird looks Chuck would shoot him if Castiel wasn’t looking. Typically, and probably because of Naomi’s presence, the three men had all been on best behaviour. Even Kevin looked unsure of himself by this point. They’d been charming and friendly and all of the things that you could want from a long lost family, but Dean knew it was a lie.

Who suggests a picnic as a way to spend a day, anyway? Like, don’t get him wrong, Dean wasn’t a hater of the outdoors at all, but why would you want to spend your time sitting on a blanket in the grass if you weren’t planning on fucking the person you were doing that with? Plus, the food they’d brought could have been better. He’d eaten enough sandwiches to feed a small army but he was still a little hungry. Stupid peanut butter and jelly. He was used to a certain lifestyle that included steaks and fancy meats. Screw this. 

When he stood up from the checked blanket which looked like something from a kids movie from fifty years ago, he mumbled his intention of strolling over to the public bathrooms along the path. Chuck and his sons hadn’t even been bothered to find somewhere a little more private than this very accessible and fairly busy park, but luckily so far they’d been paparazzi free. No one was expecting to see them here, anyway. 

As he climbed to his feet, Naomi joined him, and he shot her an almost agitated look because honestly he’d been looking forward to a moment to himself without hearing Chuck’s voice or trying not to have a panic attack every time he laughed. His manager just smiled, a little too brightly, and it was quite obviously forced. Castiel however hadn’t really noticed, was too busy in a conversation with his father, and just half lifted a hand in a temporary goodbye as they turned to leave. 

They barely made it ten feet before the whisperings began, and Dean had to resist an urge to roll his eyes. 

“Don’t let him push you over.” Naomi said in a hushed tone, walking a little too close to him. “You’re being far too quiet. I need you to fight him, I need to see what he does when he’s provoked.” 

Dean sighed, but as he ran his hand through his hair he remained far from convinced. “It’s better this way. Things with Cas are better this way.” 

“They won’t be if he gets hurt and you could have stopped it.” Naomi pointed out. “ _Castiel_ needs you to fight for him.” 

He hardly wanted to agree, but he also knew that Naomi was right, that if he just rolled over on this one that this was how his future would be until Chuck ripped them apart. He couldn’t just give up and let that happen. So instead he nodded, and when they’d returned after using the fairly grubby bathrooms he decided to make a real effort. 

“You alright?” He asked, kneeling down behind his husband, wrapping one arm around his chest and the other around his waist as he pressed a slow kiss into the side of his cheek. “Having fun?” 

Castiel eyed him with pleasant surprise. He knew he wasn’t like this often enough any more, but Cas himself was no better. As their eyes locked and that connection that was always between them overwhelmed them both, Cas leaned in, pressing his lips against Dean’s in a lingering kiss. Considering the situation they were in, Dean ignored the twitch of his cock at the sight of the heat in Castiel’s eyes as they broke apart. He’d have kissed him once again, but his husband’s eyes were drawn away to meet his father’s instead. Dean followed his gaze, heart pounding painfully as he took in the pointed stare Chuck was giving his son, and his blood ran suddenly cold. 

What had they been talking about between themselves? Dean felt more uncomfortable than he had in some time, and chewed the inside of his mouth rather than look into Chuck’s stare himself. The man they hadn't known existed until a few months ago looked like he was trying to warn Castiel. About what, Dean didn’t know, and his heart skipped uncomfortably at the thought that Cas probably understood. It was a little too much to bear. Dean looked instead at Naomi, who was watching the exchange with a curious expression, almost suspicious.

“So… football?” Michael suddenly said, as if he was repeating a question that had already been answered. Cas beamed as he nodded, shirking Dean’s arm off as he hurried up to his feet. Dean tried to ignore the sensation of rejection, instead figuring that his best move here was to join in and give them what they wanted so that Cas couldn’t say he hadn’t tried. Naomi too got to her feet, and actually, if he was completely honest, on a good day, watching Naomi attempt to play football with them would probably be one of his favourite things. He definitely never expected it to happen. 

It felt a little poignant and one-sided, when Chuck split them into teams and set Cas and Dean against one another. Luke had of course, brought his computer with him, and had chosen to ignore the family game in favour of furiously hitting keys in an attempt to do something Dean couldn’t even pretend to understand. So Luke sat out on the blanket, leaving Dean with Kevin and Naomi as his teammates, finding himself against Chuck and his remaining two sons. 

They played around for a while, it was very amateur (particularly from Naomi and Castiel’s efforts), and if it hadn’t been for the company Dean might have enjoyed himself. It made a change to be out in the fresh air, to be running at full speed, throwing and catching and finding an excuse to tackle Chuck to the ground with maybe a little more force than was actually required. Maybe. Just a little. 

Right now, Dean had the ball, and he’d just dodged Michael to find himself running straight into his husband. He figured he could probably take the movie star. Castiel was fit, but his skills in this game were non-existent. Or so he thought, at least. 

Rather than expertly dodging around Cas like he’d assumed he could, Dean found himself colliding with his husband head on, when Cas anticipated his move and side stepped like he was a damned professional. Dean fell to his ass, toppling backwards with Castiel’s counter-force as the actor landed on top of him without grace. 

Somehow, Cas succeeded in prizing the ball from Dean’s fingers and in throwing it back to Michael, who passed it onto Chuck before they scored. Dean was barely aware of Chuck’s gloating, though, because Cas was beaming brightly, staring into his eyes like they were the only two people left in the world. Naomi had told Dean to fight for Castiel, and in that moment he’d have fought anyone or anything for another second of looking at that face. Castiel was his, and his alone. Naomi had been right. He _needed_ to fight for this. 

Purposefully, Dean pushed up, forcing Cas onto his knees, straddling his legs. His hand went to his husband’s back, and as he leant in and pressed a firm, deep kiss to his lips, he pulled their bodies flush together. A groan made its way to his lips, but he suppressed its escape. He didn’t wish to make things more awkward than they already were, and he could feel the gasp built inside the mouth he entered with his tongue. 

It felt like the world just stopped. It felt like humanity ceased to exist, that all their problems and arguments were completely invented. How could anything be wrong when this felt so perfect? 

The look in Castiel’s eyes when his husband finally pulled away from him what could have been an hour later showed him he wasn’t alone in those sentiments. Cas was cupping the back of his head with one palm, stroking his jaw with another, and he felt so overwhelmingly loved that it was hard to believe they’d been arguing for weeks now. He’d definitely been partly to blame in this. His approach had clearly not been working for them. 

It was only when a throat cleared behind him that their connection broke. Cas looked up, cheeks pink, to meet his father’s eyes with a coy smile. Dean couldn’t bear to look at him, considering the moment he’d just experienced, the reminder that all was in fact not sunshine and roses like he could allow himself to imagine it was, was just a bit too much to handle right about now. He glanced Naomi’s way instead, and although she shot him a proud, reassuring smile when she looked his way, he saw the narrowed eyed, suspicious expression she’d worn while watching Chuck. More fuel to the fire, he decided. 

“You’ve got your work cut out to catch up.” Cas said suddenly, his tone light and teasing. Dean looked back at his husband, who was smirking playfully at him as he stood, and offered a hand down which Dean accepted. 

“Easier said than done, with Naomi on your team.” Dean joked, to which Cas just let out a chuckle. His gaze then, caught sight of Luke in the distance, sitting cross legged on that god-awful blanket and still tapping away at his computer. He’d been hoping to get him alone, perhaps this was his chance. “I just need to sit down a minute.” He said, looking back at Castiel. “My ass hurts from that fall.” 

Castiel laughed out loud as he nodded, planting a solitary kiss on Dean’s cheek as Dean retired out for now. A glance back over at them showed Dean that Cas could see straight through him, but he hadn’t figured out his intentions. Cas seemed to be of the impression that Dean was hoping to get to know Luke a little better. How wrong he was. 

“So.” Dean said, a few minutes later when he was sat on that blanket and watching Luke with narrowed eyes. The hacker barely even glanced up from his computer to acknowledge his existence, let alone that he'd spoken. His lack of response made Dean a little more reluctant to be as blunt as he’d planned. “How are you doing that out here in the middle of nowhere? It’s not like this park has WiFi.”  

“Using my phone.” Luke muttered, rolling his eyes. 

“Your phone?” Dean repeated, feeling as stupid as Luke was intending. He was never one for technology. Cas had always grasped the basics, and Sam was a bit of a closet nerd when it came to these things, but it had always felt a bit alien to him. Give him a classic car over an expensive computer any day. 

“Yes, using a hotspot connection.” Luke spelled it out, but it made it no clearer. 

“Right.” Dean said awkwardly. He was feeling a bit uncertain now, but what he had to say was important and there was no way he was going to pass up on this opportunity. Maybe being direct would be better after all. He took a deep breath while he considered his options, and Luke carried on typing away like nothing had been said at all. 

A few minutes went past before Dean built his courage back up. 

“How did you get those bruises?” Dean asked, looking directly into Luke’s eyes so there was no room for avoidance. 

Luke visibly paled, and although the kid was an asshole Dean felt for him. He expected that once upon a time he might have been just as inapproachable himself. 

“What bruises?” Luke muttered, but his voice was wobbling a little and his inability to meet Dean’s eyes made him even more certain of his claims. 

“Don’t play dumb.” Dean said firmly, keeping his own voice steady but quiet. “The ones on your neck the other week. Is he abusing you?” 

Luke remained silent, the sudden quiet emphasised by his suddenly still hands, the absence of typing noise adding to their mutual discomfort. He folded his arms across his chest in defence, keeping his eyes narrowed as he looked up into Dean’s gaze. It wasn't just anger that Dean could see though, there was pain, fear, sadness. Luke wanted out as much as he ever had done. 

“Don’t forget who you’re talking to here.” Dean said calmly, although inside he was screaming. He chanced a look over to the others, but they were all still playing football and completely unaware of the conversation they were having. He shuffled a little closer to his brother-in-law and gripped the hem of his own t-shirt, lifting the fabric enough to expose some of his scars, which Luke stared at cautiously. “Luke, for fuck’s sake, you’re 25 years old. You _need_ to get out of there.” 

“How even _could_ I get out?” Luke spat, his patience tested. He looked irritably away, rubbing his face with his hands out of frustration and annoyance. 

Dean watched him with sadness and trepidation, but he could help people like this, now. “Go to the police.” He said. “I’ll come with you if you want. But you need to—”

“—The police?” Luke interrupted. “Are you insane? They don’t want to help people like me. If anyone should know that it’s you.” 

Though he may have learnt a lesson or two about the police in recent years, Dean couldn't bring himself to be surprised at Luke’s reaction. He’d hoped, for selfish reasons as much as for Luke’s own good, that he could persuade the young man to confess. It would be easy to prove he’d been right about Chuck if he could get him jailed for abuse. But, he knew, when he was the same age he wouldn’t have ever dreamed of involving the authorities. He couldn’t leave it like this, though, he had to help. He considered begging Luke to confess to Castiel, to ask him for money or a new life, but Dean’s involvement would be obvious and he couldn’t risk things becoming difficult between them again. 

“See my charity, then.” He suggested, but the look Luke gave him showed him there was no way in hell he was going to go along with that plan. Dean sighed, and ran a hand through his hair before taking his wallet out of his pocket. This really had been his plan Z, his bottom of the list backup plan, but there was no way in hell he was going to let Luke walk away when he himself walked away from so many opportunities all those years ago. He pulled out a wad of cash, and while glancing over at the others to make sure no one was looking, handed it to his brother-in-law. 

“What…?” Luke’s question trailed off as he looked down at the money Dean was offering. Dean waved his hand once, and Luke took it without further complaint, splaying the five thousand bucks out as he roughly counted it. 

“Don’t get caught.” Dean said firmly. “Just get the fuck out of there. Promise me.” 

Luke looked genuinely taken aback, and there was a softness in his eyes as he looked back up at Dean. “I will.” He said quietly. 

Dean sighed, a long, deep breath, and looked down at the floor. “Does he ever hurt your brother?” He asked, wondering if he had another life to save. 

“No.” Luke said with conviction. 

“Will he?” Dean asked. 

Luke huffed a laugh. “No. Michael’s too much like him. They get along just fine.” He said, and although Dean nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, his blood was running cold. 

 

*

 

When they’d got into a car and Dean had suggested a hotel for the night rather than flying back today, Cas had wanted to kiss him. He’d wanted to kiss him before that too, if he was honest. He’d wanted to take him somewhere and fuck his brains out because of how much better he’d been today. It felt, finally, like they had true hope, and Cas was overwhelmingly relieved by that. 

So, not long after they’d come back up to their suite after dinner, he led his husband into their bedroom with his hand, not willing to look Naomi in the eye because he was already incredibly turned on. He shut the door behind them, drawing in a sharp breath right before he closed the distance between Dean and himself, pressing their lips together with built up heat and passion. 

They wasted very little time. It had been a while since they’d slept together and even then, it had been because Dean was unstable and upset and begging for it. Castiel’s desires had been building without his knowledge, and his hands made quick work of Dean’s clothes as he pulled his husband against him, helplessly rutting their erections together amid gasps and moans. 

After Dean had undressed him too, the only interruptions their desperate kisses and heavy breaths, Cas gripped his ass cheeks and ground firmly against him while Dean stuttered. 

“Fuck…” The curse fell from Dean’s lips when Cas repeated his movement, and as his reward, Cas spun them around and slammed his husband against the wall, dropping hastily to his knees and quickly lapping his tongue out to swirl around Dean’s cock while his husband continued to swear. 

His lips rounded, and he ran them firmly down to the base of Dean’s dick, expertly letting the rest of him back into his throat. Dean’s knees trembled with the desire, and Cas held them still as he pumped his lips around him a few short times, before pulling away with a pop. 

With his hands, Cas grabbed ahold of Dean’s ass, and applied a gentle pressure until his husband got the message and turned, sticking his ass out. Cas licked his tongue up in a line between Dean’s cheeks, and Dean was shaking now with how much he wanted it. Cas lapped at his hole a few times, just enough to get him slicked up with spit, and he sank his teeth into his buttock while easing a finger inside him. 

Dean moaned so loud that there was no way Naomi and the security team wouldn't have heard, but if Cas was completely honest, exhibitionism was a little bit of a turn on for him. 

He stretched his husband open amidst groans and pleas, until finally he was loose and accepting. Cas kissed Dean’s back as he scrambled to his feet, and he made his way quickly over to the bed, dragging his husband by the hand as he pushed him onto it. Dean chose to get on all fours, leaning over with his ass presented spectacularly, the sight wonderful enough that Cas could feel his orgasm under the surface. 

Cas stood as he squeezed lube over his dick, pumping it a few times before lining up. He guided his thick head inside with a gasp, and a huff from his husband, and when Dean wriggled he knew he was ready, so pushed the rest of the way in until he was fully seated. 

_Oh god. Fucking was so glorious._

Castiel started up slowly, but he was as unwilling as unable to slow his pace as he began to slam into his husband. Dean was fully yelling before long, each time the blunt head of his cock hit into his prostate, and when Cas reached under him to squeeze his dick as well, Dean cried out as he spurted come over the bed and seized up around his husband’s cock. 

It didn’t take long after that for Cas to spill too, and he pounded inside a final time before filling Dean up with his release. 

“Jesus.” Cas muttered as he came down, and Dean snorted, letting his head hang down as he caught his breath. 

“I needed that.” Dean smirked, and when he turned and met Castiel’s eyes his husband grinned at him. 

 

*

 

He had hoped that by the time he had to wake up again it would be bright out, but unfortunately the hour was still early when Cas stirred to the sound of his phone ringing. He groaned, as his husband did in his arms, and he peeled away from Dean to pick up the vibrating cell and dragged it reluctantly to his ear, not opening his eyes enough to check the caller ID. 

“Yeah?” He spoke into the night, but when his father answered him with an uncertain, nervous greeting, his stomach dropped with anticipation, and he pulled himself up to sitting, rubbing his tired eyes open. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this.” Chuck began cautiously, and Castiel’s heart was doing flips inside his ribcage. He chanced a glance down at his husband, who by now had switched on the lamp next to him and was looking just as curious. He knew in his gut that Dean had something to do with this. He’d been so stupid to think things would get better just like that. “I caught Luke with a load of cash.” Chuck explained. “He said Dean gave it to him. When I asked him why, he said that Dean had been accusing me of abusing the boys, Jim. I’d never hurt anyone, let alone my own family.” 

“Wait… what?” Castiel asked, more out of disbelief than lack of hearing. 

“Jimmy, Dean is unstable. He’s not sane, throwing accusations around like that. I don’t know why, but he doesn’t like us. I think he’s jealous, I think he wants you to himself. You don’t seem to be able to see how much he controls you, Jim, and it scares me. Look, I don’t want him around, ok?” 

Chuck’s voice was rising as he went on, and Castiel bit down on his lip as he heard the words leave his father’s mouth. He couldn’t bring himself to look in Dean’s direction. His father’s voice was so loud on the other end of the line there was no way Dean wouldn’t have heard what he was saying, and he was angry. So angry that he’d let himself believe things were ok, only to be stabbed in the back like this. What sort of dick move was that? To try and start accusing Chuck of such ridiculous things. Just because his own dad was an asshole didn’t mean everyone’s dad was. Dean was supposed to be better, so why was he acting so fucking damaged? 

“I…uh…” Cas stuttered, because really, he had no idea what to say while in his husband’s company. If Dean wasn’t around, he might have come up with a few choice words, but he was going to have to talk to him about this before he could try and brush things over with his dad. 

“Just to make myself clear, Jimmy, he is _not_ welcome at the house. I don’t want him around the boys. Your husband or not, he’s not safe.” 

“Ok… Dad, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I need to talk to him.” Cas said finally, after a slightly awkward pause. 

Chuck sighed, sounding pissed off as he muttered his final words. “Make sure you do.” He said, and hung up the phone. 

As the line went dead and Cas put his phone back on the bedside table, Dean fidgeted with his hands next to him. Cas let out a heavy breath as he settled back against the headboard, and they sat in silence for some time.

By the time that Cas had finally stopped shaking with anger, at least enough to hold a reasonable conversation, Dean was looking at him, and when he turned to meet his eyes, the expression on Dean’s face was blank and uncaring, like he wasn’t even bothered that he’d been caught. It pissed Cas off even more. 

“Yes.” Dean said then, and Cas narrowed his eyes, both out of defensiveness and irritation. “I gave him the money.” 

Cas sighed in frustration before he spoke, and he looked away as he did because he couldn’t face that lack of regret for much longer. “Why?” He asked. 

“Because he told me he was being abused, and I wanted to help him get out of that life.” Dean said, and Cas couldn’t help but look at him because he was alarmed to realise that Dean genuinely believed his own words. It shocked him, that his husband was this crazy and he hadn’t realised before now. 

“And you believed him?” Castiel asked, because he needed to understand what the hell was going on in Dean’s mind if he had any chance of fixing him. 

“He had bruises.” Dean replied, a little standoffishly. “Why wouldn’t I believe him?” 

The exasperation must have been apparent in Castiel’s expression, because he watched Dean’s eyes narrow before he’d spoken. It pissed him off even more. “Because people can get bruises for a lot of different reasons, Dean. Not everyone —”

“—Like I did?” Dean interrupted. “Don’t you think I can recognise the signs? Don’t you think if anyone can tell, it’s me?” 

“Not everyone’s father is abusive, Dean.” Cas said, keeping his voice as level as he could in answer to his husband’s question. He was angry, because he couldn’t understand why Dean was trying to ruin this for him. He'd have thought that after everything they’d been through, Dean would be relieved that they were finally getting a break, that there was finally something good happening in their lives. He just couldn’t understand his motives at all.

When Dean didn’t answer, Cas turned to lock eyes with him once again. He could see Dean thought he’d crossed a line with that comment. He could see Dean was hurt and angry and upset, but he too was just as angry, just as hurt. He made no move to apologise, and eventually, it was Dean that looked away. His husband stood up, throwing back the covers in his wake. 

“Don’t worry.” He said bitterly. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” 


	29. We'll Play Hide and Seek to Turn This Around

Give a little time to me or burn this out,

**We'll play hide and seek to turn this around,**

All I want is the taste that your lips allow,

My, my, my, my, oh give me love.

 

Two months had passed since Chuck walked into their lives during Comic Con. It was funny, in a sadistic kind of way, that after all that healing over these last couple of years, two months was all Dean needed to break. Even though he was sure, _so_ sure, that Chuck was bad news, he had no concrete proof, and the more he thought about it, the more everyone else’s theory that he’d just lost his mind seemed plausible. He could remember the conversation he’d had with Luke, and he could swear it had been honest and true, but the kid was a criminal, after all. No doubt he’d lie a little to a celebrity in order to make some quick cash.

Then there was the time he’d visited Chuck alone. How much of that had been in his head? Had any of it? Had all of it? He just didn’t know. The Shurley family had been careful enough to behave when Kevin and Naomi were around, quick to get them on side and convince them that they were good, honest people. Was it the truth? 

If he wasn’t crazy already, he was headed in that direction, and fast.He needed help. 

And so, one morning when he knew Castiel was heading into work — lucky for him, his role in Star Wars was a supporting one, so more of a part time thing, meaning even more opportunity to argue — and he had a day off, he did what his husband had been doing, and hopped on the plane headed for Kansas. 

But instead of taking the route Castiel had been using when they landed at the airport, their car took them towards Lawrence, and he climbed out in a street outside a prolific coffee shop. 

Sam looked up with a smile and a nod as he approached, and Dean pulled his hands out of his pockets to wrap around his taller brother as they met. They took a seat, and Dean straightened out his leather jacket and adjusted his sunglasses as he wriggled himself comfortable. 

“So… why the public place?” Sam began hesitantly, because he knew something was up but he didn’t know what. It had been kept highly under wraps that Castiel’s biological father had showed up out of nowhere, and even their close family and friends were still unaware. Charlie was the only one that knew, and it was only because she’d been with them at Comic Con. Dean was pretty sure he wouldn’t have told even her.  

Dean gestured his head up the street, to where a lone reporter was stood with a camera, zooming in on his face. He’d been _careful_ enough to announce loudly in LAX exactly where he was headed, because he’d known that someone somewhere would be interested enough to snap him grabbing lunch with his brother. 

“The press?” Sam questioned, completely confused. “Why do you _want_ them to see you?” 

“So that Cas knows I am where I say I am.” Dean admitted, rubbing his hands over his forehead. 

Sam narrowed his eyes, because the response was unusual and worrying. “Are you guys having problems?” He asked. 

“We’ve got problems, yeah.” Dean sighed. “But it’s not about us.” 

He took a long pause, taking a sip of the cappuccino Sam had ordered him before he’d arrived. 

“His dad showed up. His _real_ dad.” He continued. 

“His dad?” Sam repeated, surprised. “Wow. I mean, I always kind of forgot he was adopted. He and his mom —”

“—Yeah.” Dean interrupted him. It still hurt so damned much to talk about Evelyn, and recently it felt a little like Cas was betraying her memory. “I didn't realise it bothered him until now.” 

“So… what’s going on? What’s he like?” Sam asked, suddenly wary. 

“Sammy I just don’t know what to do.” Dean admitted, pleased that his shades were hiding his welling tears. “They’re awful, his dad and his two brothers. Their house… it’s like ours was. I mean Cas was _taken_ off them for fuck’s sake, but he can't see it. It’s like he thinks they’re saints. They said he was adopted because his mom had a drug problem, and they said she overdosed, but Sam I know they’re lying, I _know_ it, but I can’t prove it to him. And the younger kid, he had bruises. I asked him and he didn’t deny it, but Cas thinks he was lying.” 

Sam watched his brother melt down with sympathetic eyes, and his hand came out to grip Dean’s arm under the table. Dean shot him a grateful look for his support, and felt an overwhelming sense of relief that someone finally was on his side, and not blaming his mental state. “What sort of bruises?” 

“On his neck. Strangulation marks.” Dean stated. 

The lawyer wasn’t stupid enough to ask how Dean had recognised them as being from strangulation, but it turned his stomach all the same. “Cas is sensible though, Dean. I’m sure he’s taking care of himself.” 

“He’s not.” Dean protested. “He’s not, Sam. He’s fallen into their trap. He’s seeing them a couple of times a week. He gives his two brothers money without even thinking, he's letting himself get comfortable with it. Sam I _know_ they don’t want him for him. They want him because of his money, because of his fame. It’s only a matter of time before they ask for something big. I know it’s coming. He’s getting too involved and he’s going to get used or get hurt or both.” 

“Have you told him how you’re feeling?” Sam asked.

“I can’t, Sam. I don’t know how. I mean he knows I don’t like the guy and that I’m wary of him. But we’re arguing constantly and I’ve told him I don’t trust Chuck but he doesn’t trust my judgement any more. They’re turning him against me, and he thinks I’ve lost it. If — when — he finds out what they’re like it’ll destroy him. He was barely clinging on by a thread before all this and now?” Dean trailed to a stop because he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. He wiped a rogue tear away from his cheek that had escaped under his sunglasses. “If we talk he says I’m just being jealous, or he’ll say I’m only wary because of our dad, that not everyone is the same. But he _is_ , Sam. I’m telling you.” 

“Dean, I still think you need to talk to him about how this is making you feel. This is the worst I’ve seen you in three years.” Sam looked genuinely concerned, and the sympathy in his brother’s eyes only made his pain worse. 

“I can’t, Sam, I can’t. I’ll lose him.” Dean sobbed, his tears finally breaking out. He sucked in a breath and tried to hold himself together. “I just… I am losing him.” He said. “And before… before he came along… we were talking about having a baby. Apparently that’s not happening any more.”

Sam whistled out a slow breath, because it was killing him to see his brother so upset and be so porwerless to do anything about it. He held out his arm instead and gripped Dean on the shoulder, smiling sadly when his brother relaxed forward and dropped his head onto his shoulder in a loose hug. 

“If I know anything, Dean, it’s that you and Cas are meant to be together.” Sam said quietly. “This might end in tears, but he’ll find his way back to you. You won’t lose him, but you have to be honest with him, even just so that he can see how much it’s hurting you.”

“He won’t believe me.” Dean sniffed, chewing on his lip as he lifted his head back up off his brother’s shoulder. “You’re the only one that has believed me. Naomi and Kevin tried, but he sweet talked them. Everyone… they all think I’ve lost my mind.” 

“I don’t think you’ve lost your mind. You’re upset but I don’t think you’re crazy. I think your experiences have given you insight. Maybe mine too. Perhaps we need to do some digging.” Sam suggested, although Dean was unsure if his brother wasn’t also questioning his sanity, just a little more diplomatically than everyone else. “If we can find out why he was adopted, then we’ll know if his dad is telling the truth.” 

“How are we going to find that out?” Dean asked curiously, but the idea was a good one, if they could pull it off. It was a diplomatic approach, at least. If he could prove it one way or another, he’d know if it was in his head or not. “I can't go to Eve’s family, I can't risk Cas finding out I'm snooping.”

Sam shook his head. “I had another idea. I happened to bump into someone the other day. Lily had a baby class in the high school’s gym. I picked her up, and that drama teacher was there. The one that loved Cas? Mrs Peverell? She and his mom spoke quite a lot. She might be a good place to start.” 

Memories of a teacher who’d once asked him about his own bruises came flooding back to him in an instant. He could remember the wiry frame of a woman who’d once been a semi-famous actress herself, who’d mentored Castiel in his youth and got him the contacts he needed to get into drama school. Dean knew that Mrs Peverell had known Evelyn, perhaps she would have more information, or an idea of where to look. He nodded, and left a bill that far overpaid the check on the table for the server as they stood. 

 

*

 

It was somewhere he never thought he’d set eyes on again. Dean walked through the high school’s corridor with a nostalgic sensation in his heart. Everywhere he looked he had a different memory, his husband starring in them all. He looked down when a student looked up at him curiously, and readjusted his shades to cover his face. He couldn’t afford to be recognised here, so he turned his head to look at the displays on the wall. 

“Dean.” Sam called from a few steps in front, pointing at a poster display of successful school alumni, Castiel featuring in a starring roll in the middle. Dean couldn’t help but smile at the contrasting images. On the left, Cas was probably 16, a photo taken on a high school trip with Dean himself there at his side looking uncomfortable about being photographed, while on the right his husband’s face was the centre of a movie poster. Castiel had done so well for himself. 

“Mr Winchester.” Mrs Peverell came to meet them, expecting their visit after Sam’s call. Dean turned his head, letting a gentle smile lift his lips at the familiarity. She hadn’t changed all that much. 

At her request, the two brothers followed the school teacher down the corridors and into her magnolia office, where Dean finally took off his sunglasses and his jacket as he settled in to an uncomfortable plastic chair. Sam at his side was making pleasantries with the teacher, who was asking about Lily and his work. Dean couldn’t concentrate on any of it, his mind permanently on his husband. 

“I’m pleased for you.” Peverell said suddenly, and Dean knew it was aimed completely at him. He looked up to meet her eyes. “The last time I had you in an office you were blaming your bruises on your brother here.” She sighed. “I’ve never quite forgiven myself for not getting you to talk.” 

Sam shot a questioning look Dean’s way, and Dean just shrugged. He could remember the conversation he’d had with this woman. It had been after he’d run out on Cas, after Cas had pinned him against the lockers to try and force him to talk when she’d caught them. “I wouldn’t have talked to anyone back then.” He said quietly. 

“But you talk now.” She smiled. “And so bravely. Partly thanks to your husband, I presume. Congratulations on your marriage. Some of us did have a little bet going on whether you two would come out.” 

As Dean snorted with laughter his cheeks turned a deep pink. He hadn’t realised they’d been that obvious. At his side, Sam was chuckling too. “It’s always been Cas.” He grinned. 

“So what can I help you with?” She asked, turning her attention back to the present. 

Dean sucked in a deep breath and scratched his head. “You knew Evelyn pretty well, didn’t you?” 

Peverell sighed, eyes narrowing slightly out of both sorrow and apprehension. “I was sorry to hear of her passing. She was a wonderful person. We used to talk, yes, but mostly about Castiel.” 

“You knew he was adopted?” Dean asked, keeping his mind focused rather than let himself realise just how much he missed Evelyn. The wave of pain was only adding to his overwhelming nausea and dread.

The school teacher nodded slowly, a growing look of confusion and alarm in her eyes. “I did.” 

“Did she ever mention his biological parents?” 

Mrs Peverell inhaled slowly, eyes narrow in contemplation. “She didn’t.” She said slowly, and Dean’s heart started to sink long before she spoke again. “But we have a file.” 

“I need to know what it said.” Dean was begging. He’d get on his knees if he thought it would help. “Please… I’m worried about him.” 

“You’re worried?” Peverell questioned. “Why? Did his father find him?” Her eyes widened in alarm as Dean nodded, and Dean knew he hadn’t missed the flash of anxiety in her expression. The teacher was worried too, and he felt suddenly validated in his concerns.

“Please.” He said again, heart pounding. 

Peverell tapped her fingers anxiously on her desk while she thought about her options, but after a few moments she nodded, and stood, heading to the back corner of the room and rummaging through an old metal filing cabinet. “I don’t know what made me keep this, but I’m glad I did.” She explained. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this, but if he’s found him then Castiel deserves to know. There aren’t any details, I’m afraid, I don’t know what his father did, but we had this.” The teacher dipped her fingers into the drawer and they reemerged clutching an old sheet of paper, which she paused to look at before handing over to Dean. 

“What is this?” Dean asked as he looked at the page, but his eyes landed on his answer. He was looking at a restraining order, taken out against Chuck Shurley, signed by Evelyn and dated not long after Castiel’s adoption when he was only three years old. There were reasons listed for the approval of the order, harassment, substance misuse, threatening behaviour. 

Dean felt his skin go cold, and as he looked up to meet the teacher’s eyes she looked as wary as he felt. 

“Keep him safe.” She ordered, and Dean nodded as he stood. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep hanging in there! Next update Monday!


	30. In the Cold Light I Live, I Only Live for You

In the cold light, I live to love and adore you,  
It's all that I am, it's all that I have.  
**In the cold light, I live, I only live for you,**  
It's all that I am, it's all that I have.

 

It had been so late when Castiel had got home the previous evening that Dean didn’t think his husband had even realised he’d made the trip to Kansas and back in a day. Dean had been so focused on getting home and proving to Cas for once and all that Chuck wasn’t good news that when he’d returned to find the house empty, he’d completely lost his nerve and ended up drinking half a bottle of scotch to try and calm himself down. So by the time then that Cas did return, he was passed out in bed. 

The next morning, Dean had stirred awake to find Castiel pulling on his jeans in their closet. It was barely even bright out, the light flooding in behind the curtains still an orange shade. He watched for a long moment, as his husband picked out a smart t-shirt and shuffled it on over his head, before finally turning around and noticing he was awake. Dean’s heart was suddenly racing, because the courage he’d had yesterday had all but dried up now, and yet he knew he still had to talk. 

“Hey.” Cas smiled as he neared the bed. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you. It’s stupidly early.” 

Dean frowned, and sat upright, ignoring the fuzzy, dull ache that the scotch had left in his head. “Why is it so early? Why are you up?” 

“Got a plane to catch.” Cas laughed. “I’m headed out to Kansas for the day. I… uhm. Dad’s got something planned.” 

 _Dad?_ Every time he heard his husband say the word, Dean felt like he might throw up, and it wasn’t the scotch’s fault. “What? What’s he got planned?” Dean almost spat. 

Cas just narrowed his eyes and shrugged, and Dean realised how that had come across. He couldn’t afford to be so defensive if he wanted Castiel to listen to him. “Can I come?” He asked. 

The funny thing was, he almost wanted his husband to say no. Dean didn’t feel too keen on doing another two thousand mile round trip in a day, not after yesterday anyway, and certainly not to spend time with the in-law from hell he didn't know he’d signed up to. But he had to try, he had to keep Cas safe, had to tell him about the restraining order at some point. Plus, he wanted to know exactly what Chuck had _planned._

“Uh… I don’t know…” Cas began, and soDean put on his best puppy dog expression. 

“Please? I need to make it up to you… for last time.” He said. 

“Ok, fine, I guess.” Cas shrugged, and Dean knew he felt awkward because of how Dean’s last visit with him had ended. With Chuck telling his son that Dean wasn’t welcome in the house. 

He pulled himself out of bed while Castiel headed downstairs to get coffee, and when he’d dragged on some clean clothes and padded down to meet his husband, Cas looked suddenly shy. He shot Naomi a nervous glance like they’d just been discussing something important, and Dean didn’t miss the exchange. He darted his eyes anxiously around the room, catching the gazes of Kevin and Crowley, who were there to accompany them, and Naomi, who was apparently coming too. That in itself rang another alarm bell in Dean’s head.  

“Dean, I should probably be more honest with you.” Cas said suddenly, looking up to meet his eyes. Dean hadn’t even be able to open his mouth yet with his own news, and his heart sank at the statement. What the hell wasn’t Castiel telling him? “I know you’re going to be pissed off with me.” Cas sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck while Dean became increasingly alarmed. “I’m heading over today because… well… Dad’s buying a business and I’m lending him the money.” 

“You… he… what?” Dean tried to string a sentence together but failed. His heart throbbed painfully, because this was exactly what he’d been dreading the entire time. _How_ was his husband being so obtuse? He chanced a glance at Naomi, who was giving him a pointed, wary look, but still didn’t seem remotely as alarmed as he felt. 

“Yeah.” Cas looked embarrassed. “I’m meeting him there to sign the paperwork.” 

“No.” Dean said firmly, his anger flaring out of nowhere. “No, you’re really fucking not.” 

Castiel raised his eyebrows, taken aback. “I’m sorry?” 

“I said you’re not. We’re not going. Naomi, cancel the plane.” Dean snapped irritably, and Naomi just looked at him like she was stuck between a rock and a hard place, eyes darting back and forth between the two men. 

“Dean… why are you being like this?” Castiel asked cautiously, obviously still trying to hang on to his temper. “It’s _my_ money, and he’s _my_ dad.” 

“He’s not your fucking dad, Cas. He’s a leech.” Dean all but yelled, voice rising considerably. The independence of Castiel’s words stung. So much for _what’s mine is yours_. But Cas was starting to get pissed off too, he could see, and crossed his arms defensively in front of his stomach, affronted. 

“Oh for god’s sake, I _knew_ this would be hard for you. I _knew_ you’d have a problem with it, but not _everyone_ is like your dad, Dean.” 

“Not everyone is.” Dean agreed. “But _he_ is.” 

Castiel just rolled his eyes. “Dean, I’m going.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

“Stop trying to control my life.” Castiel snapped. 

“Control?!” Dean yelled, looking to Naomi in disbelief, hoping for some sort of backup but instead just getting an uncomfortable looking side-eye. “Where the fuck is that coming from? Is he putting that in your head? When have I ever tried to control you?!” 

“How about right now?!” Castiel shouted in response. The two security guards too, were beginning to look very uncomfortable about being party to such an unusual domestic. Sure, this had been going on for weeks, but they hadn’t had to see it before now. “You’re being so selfish.” 

“Am I? Am I really, Cas?” Dean retorted angrily. “I can’t… I just can’t support you in this. He’s dangerous, abusive, and he’s ruining us. You just don’t see it, do you? You don’t get how you’ve been acting this last couple of months. He’s turning you, Cas. He's ruining our relationship, he’s ruining your chance at getting better, he’s fucking _destroying_ me.” Dean paused to take a deep breath. “And you can’t see any of it! You’re getting too involved. He just wants your money.” 

“ _You_ are ruining our relationship.” Cas spat bitterly, eyes narrowed and dark. “And he doesn’t _just_ want my money. I _offered._ ”

“Oh, I’m sure you did babe, completely unprovoked.” Dean rolled his eyes, while Cas just watched him with fury in his eyes. He was angry, but Castiel’s comments still stung. “I don’t want to ruin our marriage, Cas. I’m trying to save it. I went to Kansas yesterday.” He admitted, rushing his words out before Cas could interrupt. “I went back to school, and I spoke to your teacher, to Mrs Peverell. She gave me this.” Dean was finding it hard to speak clearly where he was so angry, but he knew how important this was. He stuffed a hand into his back pocket and pulled out the restraining order, all but throwing it at his husband. 

“What is this?” Cas asked, still irritable, as he unfolded the paper. 

“A restraining order.” Dean said firmly, feeling a bit high and mighty for being right. Naomi’s eyebrows quirked up in interest, but she didn’t intervene. “One your mom took out against Chuck.” 

“This is from years ago.” Castiel said with narrowed eyes as he put the page on the counter, but his  conviction had definitely faltered a little. “And it doesn’t mean you aren’t being selfish. Don’t make me choose, Dean. They’re my family.” 

Dean felt the tears fall from his eyes before he could stop them, his husband’s words cutting deeper than he would like to admit. He caught sight of Naomi chewing her lip in his peripheral, her eyes wide and alarmed. 

“Choose?! Why is it even a fucking choice? I’ve known you my entire life. I’ve loved you for more than half of it. I’ve been with you for three years, Cas! It’s _me_ for fuck’s sake. It’s _me,_ but you’ve known him for two months and now he’s your family?! You don’t _need_ a family, babe.” He yelled. “You already have one.” He sucked in a breath. “And you shouldn’t need a family, because we were supposed to be starting our own.” 

Before he could think about what a bad idea it was to leave at that moment, Dean tore out of the room, the door smashing behind him and shaking the walls. 

 

*

 

He was almost grateful for the fury clouding his heart, because it was numbing the pain of Dean’s words. After his husband had slammed the door behind him as he left, Castiel had stared at the spot he’d just vacated while his body started to shake. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t known Dean was finding it difficult, him beginning a new relationship with his biological family. He’d known that Dean would find it tough, being presented with a new father figure, when the ones in his life had always hurt him or let him down, but what he hadn’t expected was the spiteful attitude that came with it, the mistrust, the bitterness. Cas had tried breaking the news gently, but it seemed like it would always have gone badly. The way he’d thrown it all back at him though had left him angry and hurting.

His husband probably needed space, and time to get used to the idea. Chuck had suggested as much, after he’d asked him if their relationship was a loving one, after he’d pointed out that Dean could be a bit controlling and overprotective.

Castiel stayed rooted to the spot for longer than he should have done, wrecking his lip with his teeth in frustration and worry. He breathed out an angry, shaking sigh. He tried to see it from Dean’s point of view. What if there was some truth to Dean’s words? What if it wasn’t in his husband’s head, and he was right? Was he being blinded? The restraining order was certainly ringing a couple of alarm bells, but right now Cas was still pissed off enough that their sound was drowned out, and he forgot about the other questions as he thought about his husband’s sarcasm and selfishness. Who was he to deny him happiness, and why did he want to? He was starting not to recognise the man he married. 

After a few tense minutes, Naomi nudged his arm, and Cas looked at her with a confused expression, because he had no idea what to do. Would he regret it if he left now, with Dean in a mood as bad as he was in? Or would it make matters worse if they didn’t give it some time before trying again? When he shrugged, and went to leave the room, Naomi failed to follow. 

“Are you really going to leave?” She asked cautiously, leaving Dean’s name unsaid. 

Rather than speak, Cas just chewed his lip, sucked a breath in, and led the way down to the garage, keeping his eyes solely on the floor. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to his husband, and it would only end in a worse fight than they were already in if he tried. But he did feel a sense of overwhelming regret as he climbed into their waiting car. 

 

*

 

Dean was hyperventilating as he reached the bar. His hands gripped into the mahogany wood as he shook out his anger. He could feel his vision tunnelling and every breath was harder to suck in, but somehow he kept control. He _had_ to stay in control, so that he could sort out the mess in his mind and figure out how to save them. What the hell was with Cas? How had Chuck got his claws into him so deeply? He’d had to walk out before he’d said something he’d regret even more. The thought of the future he’d been so looking forward to, that had been stripped from him so unceremoniously, had overwhelmed him completely and torn his heart in half in one fell swoop. 

He hadn’t been able to look Cas in the eye as he’d said it, that last painful sentence, so he had no inclination as to how he would have taken it. Perhaps he didn’t care. Perhaps Castiel was so done with their relationship that it didn’t hurt him at all, any more. Maybe he felt that the idea of having children of their own one day had just been the fairytale ending they were never going to get.  

As he breathed out an angry, slow breath, leaning over the bar, Dean thought about the implications of what he’d said and done. He knew one thing for sure, Chuck or no Chuck, he couldn’t survive without Castiel at his side, he remembered what that life was like, remembered the pain that came with it. If that meant staying with him through difficult circumstances, if it meant being there if, or _when,_ things went wrong, Dean would have to take it. It was better than going back to the way things were before Cas. He couldn’t support this, couldn’t lie and say that he was happy about the way things were panning out, but he couldn’t live without Cas either. If Cas would even have him after the things he’d just said.

Groaning, Dean looked down at his wedding ring, because he knew he had to chase after his husband and catch him before he left, because he knew that they couldn’t leave things on these terms. Wasn’t there something in their vows about bad times and good? 

Dean let his feet start the run, and he reached the garage just as the car’s engine was starting up. He chased forward, gracelessly yanking open the car door, and jumped inside, while the passengers looked at him with surprise. 

Castiel was directly opposite him, and as Dean piled in and took a seat, they locked eyes for a long moment. Neither said anything as the car began to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update Wednesday... getting closer!


	31. A Life with Love Is a Life That's Been Lived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never seen so many people excited for a Wednesday!

If he was being truly honest, he was already regretting chasing after his husband. 

Now that the surge of anger and defensiveness had died off, all that Dean was left with was pain. It was the only thing filling the numb void in his chest cavity, and with every heartbeat it throbbed, and with every breath he slaved inside his lungs, he regretted a little more that he hadn't walked out. 

It was true that he didn't want to live without Castiel by his side. It was true that he loved his husband and he cared and he didn't want any harm to come to him, particularly if he could have prevented it. It was true that he remembered how empty his life had felt before. But it was also true that he couldn't cope. Wasn't coping. Hadn't been for weeks. Maybe some time apart was what they both needed to see how important they were to each other. 

He’d thought about it over the last hour, while he was being thrown up into the sky for a husband that hadn’t chosen him. He’d planned his out already. He’d have gone to Charlie, but he knew he needed to put more distance between himself and Cas. So it was going to be Sam and Jess. He had half a mind to demand a ride there as soon as the plane landed. He knew that the constant vibrations on his phone would be his worried younger brother checking up on him. He knew that they’d welcome him back to Kansas with open arms. Open arms was what he needed. And maybe, if Cas still had Charlie, she could talk him into seeing sense. 

“I can't keep doing this.” He whispered. “I can't.” 

“Of course you can.” Naomi hissed in response, keeping her voice quiet so that Castiel wouldn't hear them talking. He was in the seat in front and feuding alone. “You have to. You want to, don't you? You followed him today didn't you?”

Dean’s voice was cracking, but he held his tears inside. He thought she would understand. He thought she would support him in this. Surely she could see what was happening, here? She must know this wasn't a decision he was taking lightly. “If he goes through with this then he's lost. I've lost.”

“If he's lost then he'll need you to find him, Dean. You can't give up on him, on your marriage.”

“You think I want to give up on him? On us?!” Dean replied, voice getting a little louder than he'd wanted it to. But his husband didn't stir in the seat in front. “I don't want to give up. I want my husband back. But this Cas? He's not the man I married.”

Naomi eyed him sadly as he tried desperately to level his breathing, and her hand went out to take his in support. She didn't speak until he’d pulled himself together, and before she did, she sighed. “He's under a lot of stress, you both are. And I get that it might seem like the only way out is to leave. I understand that, but —”

“—But I can't get through to him. He's not listening to me.” Dean interrupted. “If I walk out he’ll finally see that I can't do it, and maybe he’ll ask why. We both need the space, Naomi, and time to figure out what our priorities are. Then maybe he’ll want to fight for _me_. Like I always seem to fight for him.”

“If you walk out now, it'll only prove to him that you're jealous or bitter and because you can’t control him you're leaving. I know that isn't you. _I know that_. But that's what he’ll think. And you know who he’ll turn to. If Chuck is as bad as you say he is and you still love Castiel then you need to protect him, because god knows he's not protecting himself.” 

“And who’s protecting me?” Dean snapped suddenly, but he knew that it wasn’t the right approach so he took a slow breath. “He’s got you looking out for him.” He said sadly, chewing his lip. “He isn't listening to me.” 

“You think he listens to me?” Naomi asked, astounded. “He listens to me about as much as you do. Dean, you're the only one that's got a chance of getting through to him. Please don't do this.”

“I don't know what else to do, Nay. If he goes through with this, even after knowing how I feel about it… I can't. I can't lose him but I can't do this to myself, either. I want to be there for him, I want to help him. I want… I want my Castiel, but I don't want _him_. If I have to leave… maybe he’ll come after me. If he doesn't—” Dean choked. “If he doesn't, then maybe it was our time.”

“Don't you love him any more?” Naomi was finally letting the shock dawn on her, and her expression had changed to match it.

“I could never stop loving him.” Dean said, his voice desperate, distraught. “I tried for 12 years not to love him. I will always love him.”

“He loves you too.” Naomi whispered, but she sounded muted. Dean shrugged his shoulders once, and turned his gaze back out of the window. 

 

*****

 

To say the plane journey had been uncomfortable would be a vast understatement. Cas was pissed off, seriously pissed off at the things his husband had said and the attitude with which he’d said them, the slightly controlling manner and the angry tone hadn’t made things any better. He had been relieved when Dean had got into the car to come with them, because it did mean that Dean cared and things were fixable, but it also meant that today was going to be a hell of a lot harder than it could have been. 

Cas had sat himself down first, when they got on the plane, and he wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not when Dean sat in a chair behind him, instead of next to him like usual. He was relieved though, that they didn’t have to talk through the journey, because he was still feuding and he needed time to get his head straight. 

It hadn’t stopped him from feeling guilty though, as he listened to Naomi comforting his husband during the takeoff. He had an urge to go to him, to check on him, make sure everything was ok. It was concerning that Dean was finding the flight difficult again, when he’d been so well recently. He knew Dean would be refusing medication today, that he was in the sort of mood where he’d want to keep his head straight. _He’s destroying me_. Dean had said. Maybe Chuck was, but more likely it was his husband’s fucked up brain. _But,_ despite the things he’d said and done… the things _they’d_ said and done, Cas loved him so much that it hurt not to be helping him, to be soothing and holding him and trying to make it better, but at the same time he was just too angry right now. 

His anger did fade though, by the time they had pooled into another car after the flight. He’d dozed off for an hour or so somewhere in the middle of the drive, and when he’d woken up and looked to his right, he’d caught Kevin’s eye. The security guard had been engaged in a hushed conversation with Naomi, but he turned, raising an eyebrow and shot him a pointed look, as if asking silently if Cas were alright. He nodded, but he could see Kevin wasn't buying it. The security guard’s expression changed into an unusual one of nerves and contemplation as he dipped a hand into his pocket, and when Castiel’s cell buzzed a moment later, he checked Kevin’s message with narrowed eyes. 

‘Being honest, Novak. I’m with Dean on this one. And Naomi’s on side too. I don’t like this at all. Why would your mom need a restraining order if he’s so great? Forget whatever he’s told you and think about it before you lose Dean for good. Are you _sure_ we haven’t got a point?’

Realising Dean wasn’t the only one with doubts and reservations made his mind clear all at once. This dark fog suddenly lifted, and under it, all of his doubts were set free.

Cas shot his chief of security an irritable, confident glance while he nodded, but inside, his conviction was gone and his heart was left pounding away angrily. He’d always trusted the younger man with his life. Kevin had an excellent eye for reading people, and could he, Dean and Naomi _all_ be wrong? _Was_ he sure? He’d never embraced any doubts. He’d never _asked_ anything. All of those questions were still there, unanswered. He recalled the conversation he’d had with his father about the business he was buying. Had it _really_ been his own idea to front the money?

Oh. Holy. Fuck. What if he _was_ completely wrong about this one?  

 _He’s dangerous, abusive, and he's ruining us._ That was what Dean had said. _He’s turning you, ruining your chance at getting better, he’s destroying me._ Whether it was true or not… Dean was his husband. Why in hell hadn’t that worried him? Dean’s words suddenly held a lot more weight, and Cas stared at his hands uncomfortably. _You’re getting too involved. He just wants your money._   Cas had always wanted a father. He'd told Dean as much when Chuck had ambushed him at Comic Con. His desire could have left him vulnerable. Was he just being used, exploited? His husband was fragile, yes, but all he’d ever done was try to protect him, and he was adamant about this even at the expense of their relationship, and god forbid Cas knew Dean wouldn’t want to risk their marriage. Yet Cas had tried to walk out on him earlier. He was actually going to leave when Dean was in such a state as this. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.  Dean _was_ trying to save their marriage. Could he be right after all? 

There were other concerns, too. All of those unanswered questions. He remained a little skeptical about his mother’s cause of death, although he hadn’t asked again. He knew Dean had noticed too how rehearsed his family sounded when they claimed she’d overdosed, but he’d hoped it was to protect him from a more upsetting truth. What if it wasn’t? And it wasn’t a dealbreaker, but that restraining order... sure, maybe Chuck was just desperate to get his son back, but those words at the bottom stood out. Threatening behaviour? Harassment? Why _would_ his mom have needed to take one out, if Chuck was the guy Cas thought he was? And why had she changed his name? Why not keep him as Jimmy? Suddenly these questions needed answering, suddenly just _having_ a family didn’t seem enough. Suddenly, he was scared. 

He needed Dean.

Castiel looked up to finally take in the sight of his husband. Dean looked crestfallen, broken, _destroyed_. His eyes were red rimmed where he’d been holding in his tears, dark circles lining them. How long had he looked so awful for, and why was Castiel only just seeing it? Oh god. He _was_ wrong, wasn’t he? At least about Dean. Even if Chuck turned out to be the man he said he was, he’d still succeeded in destroying him, and it felt suddenly like he’d been trying to turn him against him. All that talk of control and abuse. That wasn’t Dean. None of it was. His husband loved him, had never tried to hurt him. Dean just wanted to protect him, to love and be loved. Castiel trusted him unconditionally in normal circumstances, so why the hell hadn’t he over this?Whether it was intentional or not, Chuck hadn’t been good for his husband or his marriage. 

“Stop the car.” Castiel demanded abruptly, and all eyes suddenly landed on him. He felt wary and confused, because he hadn’t made up his mind yet, and he was still doubting Chuck was necessarily a bad person, didn’t think his father was as evil as Dean had been making out. But Dean was his husband. And maybe he needed help more urgently than Chuck needed his money. 

Either way, there were definitely a lot of questions that needed answering. If he could prove to everyone once and for all that his father was honest, that this was a misunderstanding… maybe he could still save them both. His breathing slowed right down when Dean’s eyes perked up to meet his own, so full of pain and regret it made his heart skip in horror. What had he done? At the very least he’d sacrificed Dean’s mental health for his own curiosity.

“We need to go to Lawrence.” Cas added, and he gave the driver the address from his memory, while Dean watched him curiously. He probably remembered that Castiel’s Uncle Sebastian and his son Gabriel lived there. Cas had decided on the plan quickly, because his uncle was the only living person who might know the truth of why he’d been adopted. 

Cas let his eyes drift away from Dean, when his husband looked away. He instead caught Kevin’s gaze, and the security guard nodded, a gentle smile on his lips. At least he had backup if this went south. 

 

*

 

“Hi.” Castiel smiled at his side as the door swung open, Sebastian standing just inside the house with surprise on his face. “Long time no see.” 

“Castiel!” The older man exclaimed. Dean hadn’t seen him since Evelyn’s funeral, and that had been the first time in probably fifteen years. His hair was even whiter than the last time he’d seen him, his stomach a little wider and his posture worse for wear. “And Dean! It’s good to see you both.” He greeted, holding out a hand to shake which both men took in turn.

They were ushered inside the house, Naomi following them inside — which Dean was pleased about because it meant he had a witness if Cas had his selective hearing on — and shown into the living room. While Sebastian made them drinks, they took a seat, and Castiel’s cousin came wandering into the room, and greeted them fondly. 

Gabriel was a few years older than them, and when they were younger, Dean had primarily seen him when they wanted him to get them liquor with his fake ID. It had been his party they’d attended, in this very house, the night that they’d first slept together, and their ten year separation had begun. Dean realised with a weird sensation, that he’d not been back in this house since that night. He could remember the confused, pent up emotions he’d had as a teenager, how he’d felt watching Castiel flirt with one of the boys in his high school production, and how he’d pushed a girl up against a wall with his tongue down her throat in spite of it. How it was that argument that made them fall into bed in the first place. 

Their path had _never_ been easy. 

Whether Cas was thinking a similar thing or not he was unsure, but even though Gabriel was talking, they locked eyes and his words were drowned out. Cas let the corners of his mouth lift in the smallest of smiles, and Dean allowed his own to do the same, wishing it was appropriate to reach out and hug his husband. He wanted to be held. 

He knew though, that he had to wait. He’d figured out by now why they were here, that he must have somehow got through to his husband, that Cas had finally decided to ask for help and more information. He was so relieved that Cas had come around, that he wasn’t closed off to all other options, that maybe he could be saved. 

So although it was frustrating, Dean let the small talk carry on for a while. He was getting impatient, and didn’t really care for explaining his work with Red Nose Day to people he barely saw, not when they had such a burning question on their tongue, but he went with it all the same. 

It was Castiel though, to his surprise, that broke first. 

“Sorry, Uncle Sebastian.” He interrupted suddenly. “I can’t… ugh. We came here… I needed to ask you something.” 

“Go on.” His uncle said, shooting Gabriel a cautious look. 

“Do you know why I was adopted?” Cas blurted out. 

The older man’s face darkened considerably at the question, and Dean almost thought he looked angry. “Why? Has he contacted you?” He said instantly. He obviously knew the answers to their questions if his response was so well rehearsed. 

Castiel’s eyes narrowed, but he just nodded in reply. 

Sebastian sighed, long and deep, and Gabriel was looking at him with a slightly concerned expression. Sebastian nodded, a gesture intended for his son, and without another word Gabe stood, and walked out of the room. 

“She’d hoped this day would never come.” Sebastian said, and Dean’s heart was pounding at his tone and his conviction. Why would Eve be so worried about it? He knew he’d been right to trust his instincts. And where his husband was beginning to realise how wrong he’d been, Castiel had gone pale at his side.

A moment passed in a tense silence, before Gabriel returned, clutching a thick old envelope, with familiar handwriting on the front. Evelyn’s hand writing. Castiel took it from his cousin’s outstretched fingers, his hand shaking a little. He stared down at it for a long moment with wide eyes, before tearing his eyes away to hesitantly glance at his husband. 

In that moment everything changed. It was like Dean’s mind was immediately reprioritised, and Castiel was instantly forgiven. He forgot, immediately, that they’d been at odds for weeks. It didn’t matter that he’d been right and Castiel had been wrong. All that mattered was that he could be there for him, now. That Cas was hurting and needed his support. That Castiel would let him in again. It was the pure fear, and overwhelming guilt and regret that was already clouding his husband’s eyes that grabbed him, and while his distress faded and relief took over he strengthened, ready to support Cas through whatever was about to happen. 

So Dean snapped, because whatever the hell was going on it was serious enough that Evelyn had left them information _just in case_ , and that was about as terrifying as Chuck was himself. He leant forward, his hand reaching out for Castiel’s shoulder while their foreheads touched gently. Cas stared at him helplessly, wide eyed and scared, and Dean kissed him firmly on the lips when he did eventually pull back. 

But, Dean was relieved to notice, for the first time in what felt like years, the person staring back at him was all Cas. 

Both Sebastian and Gabriel had left the room to give them privacy, and Naomi was hovering awkwardly, as if unsure if her presence was wanted. Castiel held a hand out to her, which she took, and Dean could see he wanted her to stay. His husband’s eyes met his once more, braver now he knew he still had Dean, and when Dean nodded Cas gently opened the envelope and removed the letter inside. 

 

 _My darling_ _Castiel_ , 

_I hope you never have to read this letter. I hope you never have to hear from the man who calls himself your father, and that you never have to meet him._

_But if you do, then there are things that you need to know — I’ve been a coward._

_These things I should probably have told you many years ago, but I never found the words and you never asked the questions. I was scared, sweetheart, that if I brought up your adoption you might get curious, and above all I was selfish, that you might suddenly think I wasn’t enough._

 

Castiel was already crying, reading his mother’s honest words, and Dean scooted closer to him, wrapping an arm around his back and nuzzling their heads together as they continued to read. 

 

_Darling, your biological father isn’t a good man. He’s an addict and a criminal. It took me over a year to get you away from him, to escape him for good. I had to take out a restraining order, move across the state, and change both of our names before he lost track of us. His name was Chuck Shurley, and you were once Jimmy._

_Castiel, please, whatever you do in your life, don’t get involved with him. He’s a dangerous man, and you were removed from him because he’d caused you harm. Your poor mother didn’t escape him._

_I don’t know, sweetie, if you want the details. But I’ve kept the newspaper articles in case you ever wanted to know, or if he’s already inside your head and you need the proof._

_I will always love you._

_Please stay safe._

_Mom._

 

By the time that Dean had got to the bottom of this first page Castiel was wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve and breathing raggedly. They exchanged a look, and when Dean nodded, Cas put the letter to the back and revealed the newspaper clippings behind, that explained the truth. 

‘Kansas man’s insurance scam kills wife and hospitalises three year old son.’ 

Dean’s heart sank at the first headline. He had no idea what this must be doing to Castiel. He pulled his husband a little closer, kissing his cheek as they read on, as the article detailed the past. His hatred for Chuck grew and grew as he learned the truth. Chuck had been high on god only knows what, had intentionally set fire to his own house so he could claim the insurance money. No one knew if he’d been aware that his wife was upstairs, but there was a hefty life insurance payout from a policy taken out only days before her untimely death that he received in full. His young son, Jimmy, who had been downstairs with him, had suffered from smoke inhalation and ended up in hospital. 

Chuck had avoided sentencing on a technicality, but upon observation his parenting was deemed unsafe, and Jimmy had been removed. 

There were multiple other articles, petty theft, drug possession, assault, harassment. None of them pinpointed Chuck Shurley, but Evelyn was obviously sure enough that it was him to include them in her package. Some of the articles included photographs of suspects, or police sketches. Dean could tell who’d been guilty of those crimes. 

After a long moment of contemplation, Castiel suddenly inhaled, and handed the letters to Naomi for safe-keeping. The manager eyed him warily, but he kept his face straight as he stood up, and without a word he led them back out to the car, Naomi offering a hasty goodbye to their hosts. 

Dean felt as on edge as ever, as he kept a careful eye on his husband and joined him in the car. His heart was racing, when Cas asked the driver to continue on to their original destination, the intention still to meet Chuck. Why would he want to do that? Why wouldn’t he want to just go straight home? He felt awkward, and was unsure whether to ask the question, but he didn’t have to. 

“I just need to talk to him.” Cas said, looking straight at him, and although Dean would vastly prefer never to see that asshole again, because he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t floor him, he sucked in a breath. This had to be Castiel’s decision, and although he was hating it, worried that Chuck might turn him against Evelyn and against himself, he couldn’t stop him from doing this. He just needed to have faith in his husband, so he nodded. Cas took his hand and squeezed his fingers, which in itself was reassuring. 

 

*

 

As they reached the abandoned lot that Castiel was meant to be paying for, Dean’s heart was pounding and his hands were sweaty. Cas seemed to be holding together strangely well. He hadn’t said much since they’d got in the car, he hadn’t cried or yelled or screamed or done any of the things that Dean wanted to do, he’d just sat, more or less still, throughout the journey. He’d only really flinched when Kevin had chanced to ask what had happened inside Sebastian’s house, and Naomi had handed him the articles. The security guard had shot Dean a look when he’d read through the bunch, a look that said, good call. 

The movie star, who looked so strong and confident on screen, but so fragile here and now, let go of Dean’s hand as the car door was opened for them. He’d held it all the way here from Lawrence, and they’d been in the car a couple of hours now, so it was clammy and he wiped it on his jeans while Dean did the same. 

They climbed out of the car, and Chuck was waiting for them at the entrance to the lot, some fifty metres away, but they would have spotted him a mile off. He had this stupid, gold corduroy jacket on that made him stand out. Dean didn’t want to be here, at all. He felt angry and confused. His husband wasn’t making any sense. Dean didn’t want to be within a thousand miles of the man that had killed Castiel’s mother and put him in hospital, and he couldn’t understand why Cas wanted to be here, either. He’d said he wanted to talk to him. What did he want to talk about? Why give him the chance to manipulate them? 

Castiel led the march up to his father, his strides long and purposeful, but Dean, the two security guards, and Naomi, all kept pace. Dean stopped a few metres in front of Chuck, but Castiel carried on walking. His husband’s intentions only became clear when Castiel’s hand balled into a fist, but it had struck Chuck’s jaw, hard, before Dean could even reach him. Chuck fell back against the fence behind him, and slipped to the ground, landing with a thud on his ass and clutching at his face. 

“ _That_ , was for killing my mother” Cas spat, a pure fury in his eyes that Dean had never known him capable of. A large part of him wanted to cheer, but he thought maybe he should be a bigger man than that. He held his husband’s arms down by his sides, but Cas kicked out with his leg and caught Chuck in the stomach. “ _That’s_ for putting me in hospital.” He kicked out again, but it would be the last time now Kevin was restraining him too. “And _that_ was for trying to turn me against my husband.” He yelled. 

How Dean managed to keep Castiel away from Chuck without trying to kill the man himself he would never know, but Kevin and Crowley stepped in as Dean wrestled his husband away, and they would certainly have stopped him from making matters any worse. Chuck scrambled to his feet, anger in his eyes. He didn’t bother to try and deny the accusations that Castiel had landed on him, and his expression turned so ugly that Dean almost started to fear for their lives. Kevin and Crowley put themselves in front of Castiel and himself protectively in response. 

When Chuck started to laugh, a horrible, wicked laugh, Dean was shaking. There was a hatred boiling in his gut unlike anything he’d ever known. He’d hated his own father, but John hadn’t ever directly hurt Cas. This was something else. When the laughter had subsided, a corrupt smile was left on Chuck’s lips, Dean’s stomach churning uncomfortably at the sight.

“That’s my boy.” Chuck grinned, and he was lucky that Kevin and Crowley were in front of Dean because they held him back before he could surge forward and land another flurry of attacks. “But you know I’ll have you now for assault, right? Gotta pay for this somehow.” He gestured behind himself. 

Dean struggled in Crowley’s arms but the security guard held tight until Castiel intervened, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder and pulling him back behind their barrier. Cas looked suddenly worried, because an assault charge could be devastating for his public reputation. Dean watched as his husband looked down at his own knuckles, at the broken, bloodied skin on them.

“I’d like to see you try.” Kevin said suddenly. He gestured to the buildings that were nearby. “I can’t see any cameras. And what my colleague and I saw, was you attack our boss.” 

Chuck’s eyes darkened at Kevin’s words, and he took a threatening step forward that Kevin matched with equal ferocity. Dean clung onto his husband’s arm, slightly worried they might need to make a quick getaway. Cas looked slightly humbled by the backup and support he was receiving.  

“That’s what I saw, too.” Naomi shrugged, stepping towards Chuck without a worry about her own safety. Her confidence in his desire not to hurt a woman may have been misplaced, but she wasn’t concerned. Kevin had her back. “And I’m surprised that you would want to go back to court. Particularly given the calibre of our lawyers. They may want to reexamine old cases.” 

Chuck sharply inhaled as he watched the woman approach him, shaking with rage, eyes narrow. Naomi walked within a metre of him, Kevin right behind her, and smiled broadly, right before she slapped him firmly across the face. Dean let out a laugh, because he was genuinely impressed, while Castiel looked on with his mouth hanging open at his side. 

“ _That_ , was for fucking with my boys.” Naomi said firmly, and she promptly turned her back and began to walk away. 

Although it took a moment, because he was so shocked at what he'd just seen, Dean soon got with the program, and tugged on Castiel’s arm to urge him into motion. They all piled into the back of the waiting car in shock and silence, but after a few minutes, Cas began to shake violently at his side, and he wrapped his arms tightly around him as his husband began to sob, the heartbreak remaining now the anger had faded. 

“I’m _so_ sorry.” Cas cried, and Dean just smiled sadly, held him close, and kissed away his tears as they fell.

 

*

 

It was late in the afternoon by the time they’d got home, and if he was honest, Dean would sooner have gone to bed than talk everything out. He was exhausted from all the travelling he’d done in the last two days, and his emotions were weighing on him so heavily that he just felt drained. It seemed he was alone in his desire just to go to sleep, however, because Naomi made no move to leave when they finally got back to their house, and Cas tore away from the group to hide away upstairs with the excuse that he just wanted a minute to himself. 

Dean watched him go reluctantly, because he and Cas were both good at that, at playing the, _I need to be alone_ card the minute things got difficult, but he couldn’t intrude either, not yet, anyway. So instead, he followed Naomi and the two security guards into the living room, and took a seat on the couch. 

“I need to apologise to you, Dean, you were right.” Naomi said suddenly at Dean’s side, and he turned to meet her eyes with confusion in his own. 

He groaned, and rubbed the balls of his hand over his eyes. “I hate times like this.” He complained. “Where it sucks to be right.” 

“I thought your own experiences were tainting your view of him.” Naomi admitted. “I thought you were bitter, maybe even jealous. I shouldn’t have dismissed your concerns.” 

Dean could get why she felt like that. He knew it had been Castiel’s reasoning too, not to believe him, not to see through the dubious façade he’d been putting up and realise that he was struggling with everyone’s instant acceptance of the man. He’d almost begun to believe their conviction that he was losing it.

“You tried to back me up, Nay. You were there for me when Cas wasn’t. I won’t forget that. But Chuck? You didn’t get to spend enough time with him.” Dean said slowly, which was entirely the truth. Cas might have been vulnerable and blinded by his need to fill the empty parental hole within him that Evelyn had left behind, but he knew that Naomi would have seen through him too, if she’d been offered the same chance he’d had. “It was obvious, honestly it was.” 

A reflective silence filled the room, and five minutes passed before Dean started to feel agitated and itchy. It hadn’t been long at all, he knew that, but he _had_ to see his husband was ok. He was just about to stand and turn to leave, when the wall monitor behind them buzzed, signalling that the front gate was opening. Dean turned, eyes narrowing as he watched a car head through the gate, knowing that his husband was inside it. 

“Where the hell is he going?” Naomi asked the question they were all thinking. But Dean had a feeling he knew exactly where Cas was headed. “He shouldn’t be out on his own anyway, let alone when he’s feeling like this.” 

Dean was less alarmed than the others. He should have seen this coming. “I’ll go after him.” He decided. 

Naomi started to protest. “You shouldn’t be out on your own eith—” But she trailed off at the look on his face, because she knew she was being ridiculous. Dean was more of a threat to other people than they were to him. He’d throw a punch to protect Castiel or himself if he needed to, they all knew that. Naomi groaned. “Don’t do anything stupid.” She demanded. 

Kevin stood then, and pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll track the car.” He said, loading up an app for the purpose, but Dean was already halfway out the door. 

“No need.” He called behind him. “I know where he’s going.” 

 

*

 

The white roses he’d picked up en route felt heavy in his hands, a symbol of their loss. He could remember the similar ones they’d laid on the coffin before it had descended. The sun was setting now, over the cemetery, the sky a beautiful array of oranges and pinks, yet as Dean walked along the paths between the graves he felt cold. It was strangely humbling, being amongst the dead. The loss in his heart felt more poignant given the quiet nature of the place. 

He reached the church and walked around the edge of it, allowing a hand to trail along the cool light stone to remind him of where he was. When he’d got behind the building, he looked ahead, and he could see from here the figure huddled next to an extravagant headstone in the shape of an angel. 

Castiel’s back was to him as he approached, the actor was sat cross legged facing the headstone, and Dean had walked up so quietly that his husband hadn’t noticed his presence yet. He could hear him talking, apologising, reminiscing, and his heart went out to him, because he could see just how much Cas missed his mother. 

“I feel like I’ve betrayed you, Mom.” Castiel cried. “I’m so sorry. I miss you so much. Why’d you have to go?” 

Gooseflesh erupted across Dean’s skin and tears of his own welled in his eyes. His poor husband was so broken over this, and yet there was nothing Dean could do to save him. He took a few more careful steps forward, making sure to make enough noise that Cas realised he was there. Castiel looked back over his shoulder, red rimmed eyes full of spilling tears, cheeks pink and sodden. His gaze flashed to the bouquet in Dean’s arm, and his face crumpled once again in a bout of sobs. Dean kneeled down behind his husband, and laid the flowers gently over the grave while Castiel turned to his side to watch. 

The white petals shone, reflecting the colours of the sunset. Dean put his arm around Castiel’s shoulder now it was free, and they sat in silence for some time longer, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies and reflecting on times passed while the stars rose in the sky, and the roses returned to white with the glow of the full moon. 

“She’s still looking out for me.” Castiel whispered, some time later. Dean turned his neck to meet his husband’s eyes, and Cas was searching his as if looking for some sort of reassurance. Dean lifted a finger to Castiel’s cheek and smiled. 

“Of course she is, she’s your mom.” 

The pause was longer than normal, and Dean could see how much it was taking for Cas not to cry again. “I should have listened to you.” Cas said then, and his lip was trembling. 

“You did today.” Dean said quietly. He was hurting, but it could wait. Castiel’s pain was radiating off of him in waves right now. They had to talk, he knew that, but not today. “I should have been more honest with you sooner.” 

“I knew, though. I knew from the start that you weren’t happy about it. You said before you didn’t trust him. I should have listened to you. Why didn’t I listen to you?” Cas was beating himself up about it, that much was clear. The nagging disappointment that Dean had in Castiel was still there, but fading with every minute as his forgiveness took over. He felt so sorry for his husband in that moment. 

“You thought I couldn’t trust him because of my own dad. I get that. I didn’t know for sure that that wasn’t the whole problem.” Dean sighed, and he kissed Cas’s temple gently. 

“I wish our children had a chance to meet her.” Castiel sighed after a pause, looking back at the headstone in front of them. Dean’s heart jumped in his chest at the realisation that it was still on the cards for them, and he shot Cas a smile. “I can’t even talk about her. It hurts so damn much. But I’m not respecting her memory by ignoring it.” 

“No, but it will come with time.” Dean said softly. “They will know everything there is to know about her, I promise.” 

“I didn’t even know her real name.” Again, Castiel let his tears fall over, and Dean nuzzled his forehead into his husband’s cheek while Cas tried to stop, and smiled despite the intense pain in his heart. 

“She was who she was.” Dean soothed. “She was Evelyn as much as you’re Castiel. That’s all that matters.” 

Castiel took a deep breath as he choked back the remainder of his tears, nodding gently against his husband’s forehead. 

“I said some horrible things to you today, Dean. And I've been a terrible husband recently.” He sniffed. “To set the record straight, you weren’t ruining our marriage at all. I was. _He_ was. It's just taken me this long to see it. And you’re not controlling or selfish.” A smile made its way to Castiel’s lips and stayed there. “ _And_ you were completely right. I already have a family. You all backed me up today. Even after everything I've done. You, Naomi, Kevin, Crowley.” He beamed. “Sam, Jess, Lily, Charlie. We’re all family. We’re in it together. And I’m so sorry I made you doubt that.” 

And great, now Dean was almost crying too. He sucked in a slow breath while he tried to hold it together. “We will always be family.” He smiled, because there was pain, but there was hope now, too. “If we can get through this, we’ll get through anything.” 

“Lie back?” Castiel asked, and Dean did as he was told, letting his back rest on the grass and wrapping his arm around his husband as they lay together, looking up at the stars. Cas was shivering with the cold, so Dean pulled him closer and stretched his jacket over the both of them. 

“You know we’re going to England next week?” Castiel asked, and Dean nodded. They were heading out for the next stage of the shoot, all the scenes that required Castiel on location. Dean had been dreading it, but now it felt like a great idea to get away from Hollywood. “Can we just go tomorrow?” ,

“Sure.” Dean smiled, kissing his husband’s forehead.

“You’ll be ok on the plane?” Cas questioned, and again his husband nodded. 

“I will.” He said confidently. 

Castiel beamed, a beautiful, happy smile that took over his face. He kissed his husband's lips gently, before pulling back and returning his gaze to the sky that was full of stars. “Ok. But right now, we’re staying here.” 

 

And I hoped that I’d see the world as you did, ‘cause I know,

**A life with love is a life that’s been lived,**

And I’ll sing Hallelujah, 

You were an angel in the shape of my mom,

When I fell down you’d be there holding me up,

Spread your wings and I know,

That when God took you back he said “Hallelujah, you’re home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost wish I didn't have this all written out, reading some of your theories! Some of them would have been way more interesting! 
> 
> Don't worry though, they will have a big talk (or fifteen). Cas won't get away with it that easy, but Dean's just being the better person for a minute. 
> 
> See you Monday!


	32. Who Stole the Soul from the Sun in a World Come Undone at the Seams?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to try and reply to your comments I promise, but hang in there, I'm not letting Cas off that easy, he doesn't deserve it and he and Dean know it as well as we do. But they've got to resolve a few issues first before they can even think about what happens next. 
> 
> Dean's kept going by relief at the moment, but that will run out.

 

Who kicked a hole in the sky so the heavens would cry over me?

**Who stole the soul from the sun in a world come undone at the seams?**

Let there be love. 

 

It hadn’t been quite as simple as just leaving, unfortunately, but Naomi couldn’t have been better about it, and she’d cancelled all but one meeting for the following week, dragging it up to this morning and arranging it so Castiel could join into it through a conference call. 

Dean had sat at the side of the room while Castiel and the producers blathered on about movie stuff that Dean didn’t really find interesting. Normally, he’d have left his husband to it, but since the events of yesterday he hadn’t left Castiel’s side for longer than to use the bathroom, and he knew his husband was grateful of his constant presence. 

So there he’d sat, and he’d observed. Dean watched how his husband maintained a stable attitude, smiling at the right times, nodding in agreement when it became necessary. Maybe he’d overestimated how much Cas had been affected by this, or maybe it was simply that Cas was kept going by his guilt and anger. He knew his husband had already accepted the things that they’d found out yesterday. He’d known as soon as he saw him begging forgiveness at his mother’s grave. Perhaps a small part of him had always known the truth about who Chuck was. As for Dean? He was still being fuelled by his relief. There was pain there, a lot of it, under the surface. But right now, he had something to keep going for. 

When the actor had finally hung up the call in the office, he shuffled in his chair before looking over to Dean with a grateful smile. At the unspoken invitation, Dean stood, making his way slowly over and wrapping an arm around Castiel’s front as he bent to press his lips against the movie star’s cheek. Cas beamed, nuzzling his head against his husband’s, and they paused for a few moments in each other’s presence before slowly moving into action. 

A few hours later, after their bags had been checked in and Dean had eaten himself to contentment in LAX’s VIP lounge, they were boarding the plane. At Castiel’s request, Naomi had once again booked them a private cabin room, except this time Dean knew it was for his husband’s benefit rather than for his own. Cas needed space, and time away from people. The last thing he’d want right now would be to sit in first class being hassled by everyone else who’d forked out the extra money. 

It was getting hard to ignore that familiar catch in his throat though, as he took his seat and chanced a glance out of the window. He knew Cas had seen it, how he’d struggled with that last breath and swallowed it down slowly to keep himself calm. He wished he could be stronger. He had been better before, but right now his pain was fresh again, resurfaced by Chuck and the nightmares he'd had in his last few weeks. 

Dean’s eyes took in the engines up ahead, and he had to look quickly away to stop himself from getting back up. He’d have preferred his husband not to have noticed, but he could hardly disguise his shaking hands as he pulled his buckle across his lap and fastened it tight. He was grateful though, when Castiel’s hand clamped down over his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He looked up, and into those impossibly sky blue eyes that he loved so fucking much, and let himself drown in the depths of that ocean instead of his panic. 

In his defence, he only had one other slip up throughout the flight, which, when you compared it to how he’d been the first time they’d flown to the UK, was some sort of miracle. It had only been that horrible initial take off that had set him off, and he’d let out a little whimper and struggled a bit to breathe properly. Castiel had taken care of it though, wrapping his two strong arms around Dean’s body until the plane was levelling out. The kisses in his hair were distracting enough that he could calm down, and when he finally pulled back his husband smiled at him brightly. Somehow, with Cas holding him, Dean managed to sleep for the rest of the flight. 

 

*

 

The worst thing about this plan? Definitely the poor planning regarding the time difference. Because they’d had daytime commitments, it had been 11pm when they’d set off from LA. And here they were now, eleven hours later, landing in London at 6pm the following day. How was that even a thing? It was incredibly disorienting considering they’d just had a fantastic sleep. If Dean had been better at flying they’d have been better off staying awake, but, well. What was worse? A terrible rest or eleven hours of panicking? 

It was already 8pm by the time they’d got to the Ritz. With a smile on his lips, Dean took their bags from Crowley, and disappeared to take them into their room in the suite and begin unpacking. Cas watched him go with a returned smile, but he felt a little uncomfortable now that he had nothing to do. He stood awkwardly in the living area, flexing his fingers as he stared down at the ugly, patterned carpet. 

Everything felt so weird. He was… ok, he was, but he felt stupid and guilty and angry about how easily he’d been fooled. It was all so raw, and he knew that Dean and Naomi were acting a bit cautiously around him, but he wished they’d go back to normal because he needed to forget it was happening at all. Not that he could do that before he’d apologised. The pain wouldn’t start to fade until he deserved for it to. But it wasn’t because he’d found out who Chuck really was. No, that could hardly be considered a surprise. He’d been such an idiot to let him in. Chuck had seen his vulnerability from a mile away, and taken advantage of him with so little effort. How had he been so stupid?

That wasn’t what had worried him most of all, though. What he was still upset over, was how easily he’d been manipulated into thinking his husband was something he wasn’t. His mind had just rolled over and accepted the poisonous lies that Chuck had been spouting. He knew why, he knew that it was his desperation to be accepted by his long last father that had led him to question the truths he knew about his husband, knew that Dean’s wariness and protectiveness had pissed him off. And there were other truths he had to accept, too, but none of it was an excuse, and he had no idea how to make it up to Dean. 

As he was thinking about the things they’d said and done, he’d failed to notice the tears welling in his eyes. But his manager hadn’t, and when Naomi came up to him and placed a hand gently on his shoulder, he looked up at her gratefully. She smiled softly as his expression changed, and he wrapped his arms around her back in a thank you. 

“Are you alright?” She asked, once she’d pulled back. 

“I am.” He smiled in response. 

A little while later, once they’d unpacked and settled in, Cas was struggling with how uncomfortable he felt. All he wanted was to be left alone with Dean for a while, but of course, Kevin, Crowley, and Naomi had nowhere else to go. Dean looked pretty chilled out at his side, lounging into the sofa and flicking through the pay per view TV channels, but Cas felt fidgety and just wanted him alone so they could talk. 

“Guys?” He asked suddenly, unable to hold it in much longer. “If it’s ok with you, I just want to be with Dean for a while. Can I pay for you to go get dinner somewhere?” 

Dean watched him curiously, while Naomi looked hesitant. He knew what her concerns would be, so he rolled his eyes before he spoke again. “Nay, it’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re fighting off daily assassination attempts.” He smiled, but she didn’t really seem to see the funny side. She did leave though, with a bit more persuasion. Dean piped up in his defence and won her over. It was useful, if a bit annoying, how easily he could get her to do what he wanted at times. 

So before long they were alone, and Cas turned to his husband with a regretful expression, ready to talk it all out. He needed to talk it all out, if he was honest. It was weighing him down. And he knew that deep down, Dean was way more hurt than he was letting on. He could see it behind his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry.” He began, voice rushed. “I love you and I let you down. The things I said to you—”

“—It’s fine, Cas.” Dean interrupted, although strictly it wasn't true. He was still hurting, but his desire to be strong for his husband and help him back into a good place was still stronger than his pain. “Honestly, I’ve forgiven you already.” He said, a large, false smile on his lips. 

“You shouldn’t have, though.” Castiel pouted in response, heart hurting with his guilt. He knew he should be made to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, knew that Dean probably wanted that if he’d just be honest. He didn’t deserve to be let off so easily. “I was so awful to you.” 

“Yes, I should have.” Dean protested, and he shuffled around, lifting a finger to Castiel’s jaw to keep their gazes locked. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t you talking.”

“Then why did it come out of my mouth?” 

“He’d manipulated you, babe.” Dean sighed. “You were vulnerable, he saw that. He took advantage of how much shit we’ve been through. It wasn’t your fault. Please don’t blame yourself.” 

Castiel sighed, because he wasn’t buying it, but at the same time it was nice to hear that Dean was trying to forgive him even if they both knew he _did_ deserve it. “I wish I could make things better.” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand and looking away. He still wanted to apologise, still wanted to get on his knees and beg forgiveness, but he knew that Dean would dismiss it for now,  so what was the point? 

The little laugh that Dean let out then had him looking back up at him curiously. “Do you know what might make it better?” Dean said, a suggestive look in his eyes. 

Castiel narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but there was the beginnings of a smile on his lips. “What?” 

“If we fucked on Naomi’s bed.” Dean grinned. 

The mental image of Naomi coming back to find them screwing in her room had Castiel breaking down in a fit of laughter, and Dean was beaming when he managed to look up at him again.  “She would quite literally murder both of us in our sleep.” Cas chuckled. 

“She would.” Dean agreed. “But it would be funny.” 

“Perhaps not worth losing our lives over, though.” Cas pointed out, but he was grinning when Dean pushed forward and pressed their lips together in a firm kiss that he quickly let deepen. Dean gasped against him as he met his strength with his own and let their tongues meet, tasting each other’s passion and need. 

“Will here do?” Dean rushed as he pulled their mouths quickly apart before focusing his lips on Castiel’s jaw, his hands dropping to his husband’s shirt and fumbling to undo the buttons. 

Castiel could only nod in response as his tongue ran over Dean’s ear lobe and his husband shivered at the touch. He knew it was a distraction, but maybe they needed a distraction. His fingers gripped the hem of Dean’s t-shirt and pulled it gracelessly over his head, and he smiled at the feeling of the building erection within his husband’s jeans. He let a hand trail down now Dean was bare-chested, cupping his cock with firm fingers and eliciting a hearty gasp. He wanted every part of him, all at once, and now that Dean had looked back up to meet his eyes he could see his desires were getting the better of him, too. 

“I love you.” Castiel said, as his left hand met his right to drag open the button on Dean’s jeans while his husband squirmed in anticipation. When the firm denim was out of the way, he pushed his fingers under the elastic waistband of his husband’s boxer briefs, teasing the length with a featherlight touch. Dean whimpered, looking incredibly sorry for himself, but Cas just smirked as he dragged another long kiss from his lips. 

Dean was a tight coil ready to spring apart, and although Cas wanted each and every part of him, his desire to please was getting the better of him. His fingers wrapped firmly around his husband’s cock, and began to slowly move. Where he desperately craved to be deep inside of his husband, he was completely enraptured by the beautiful little expressions lighting up Dean’s features every time he flicked his wrist, and he knew that any hope of taking things further was a lost cause when Dean slipped his sweatpants down enough to free his own cock, too, and took it in his hand. 

There just couldn’t possibly be a more beautiful sight on this earth, than Dean Winchester approaching orgasm. It had always been his favourite thing to see, and until the day he died these moments would be amongst his happiest. Underneath him, now, his husband was panting in shallow breaths. His mouth hung slightly open, a tiny drop of drool collecting in the corner where he was so out of control, his tongue hiding behind kiss swollen lips. Dean writhed with every pump on his cock, which was leaking out precome as he neared his finish, dripping unceremoniously onto his abdomen, and to carry him over the edge, Castiel picked up speed. 

The mechanic cried out as he came, as his cock and balls tensed and twitched and he painted his stomach white. Cas rocked him through each aftershock, until he lay spasming underneath him, his own grip erratic but still enticing around Castiel’s dick. Dean dragged down fresh air as he came around, and there was nothing but love in his eyes as he smiled up at his husband, tightening his hand as he resumed his speed. 

With that beautiful image still in his mind, Castiel wasn’t far behind. His horizon was creeping ever closer, his lungs starting to catch every time Dean twisted his wrist, and he turned into his husband with a desire for closeness as it began to take him. 

As it hit him, Cas groaned out his husband’s name. He kept his eyes open, watching Dean’s pleased expression as he was overwhelmed, and his cock added to the mess on Dean’s stomach. Dean pushed suddenly forward as Cas came on him, bringing their lips back together in a messy, uncoordinated kiss that Cas could hardly control. His body shook and he didn’t have enough air, but the sensation was fantastic, and as soon as it died down, the oxygen flooded back in. 

How long they lay, side by side, cocks still out and drying come on Dean’s stomach, Castiel didn’t know. All he knew was that the skin contact was grounding him, helping him feel close to Dean again, and that post sex buzz was leaving him tired once more. He didn’t want Dean to get redressed, but he knew it was inevitable. They gave it a few more minutes before he got up to get a washcloth. 

After they’d cleaned up, Cas smiled, watching as Dean pulled his t-shirt back on. “Well.” He said, smirking. “That does feel better.” 

At the admission, Dean laughed, and now that he was clothed again he lay back down on the couch, wrapping an arm around Castiel’s back as they cuddled into each other. It was a particularly half assed attempt at a normal evening, but Dean chose the first movie that Cas wasn’t starring in (a feat in itself, his husband was so damned busy), and they let it play as they lay together. 

They might have slept more than enough for the night during the flight, but the sex had tired them out, and Castiel was sound asleep by the time that Naomi and the two security guards came back into the suite. As her eyes landed on the two men curled up together, she offered them a curious look, but Dean knew it was one of concern and caring. He had been half asleep himself, but he stirred awake and glanced up at her with a soft smile. 

“Is he ok?” She asked. 

“Yeah, I think he is.” Dean smiled. 

 

*

 

The next time Dean came to, the room was still dark. He wasn’t surprised by it, due to their crappy time management and the solid sleep he’d got on the plane, but nor was he surprised that he was alone in bed. 

Dean pursed his lips as he rolled onto his back. He’d wondered earlier if he should have let Castiel talk a bit more. Maybe his husband just needed to get it all out. Maybe he needed the actual conversation. Dean would have preferred to brush it under the carpet, particularly while it was this raw, because he understood what had happened and the hows and whys. But talking it out wouldn’t change the fact that Cas had fucked up and been completely screwed over by his father. It wouldn’t mend the now broken trust between them any better than it would heal the pain in his heart. But then maybe Cas needed to talk. Perhaps he hadn’t been tactful in trying to take his mind off of things. 

He sat up in bed, rubbing his stinging eyes as he switched on the lamp next to him. A glance to his right told him that wherever his husband had gone, he’d taken his cell phone, so Dean booted up his own and loaded up the app to find out where the hell he’d gone. He should have expected it, really. Cas wasn’t so dumb as to leave the hotel in the middle of the night on his own, not this hotel, anyway. 

A few minutes later and Dean had padded down the empty corridor to his destination. Memories replayed in his mind of a much happier day, and as he entered the huge ballroom he was living in his past, recalling an artistic wedding reception, his new husband’s arm linked with his own, a beautiful, bright smile on his lips. 

The reality of course, was that he was breaking into here in the middle of the night in his pyjamas, and he was quite aware of how hilarious a contrast this was. His eyes landed on the movie star, leaning back against a table with folded arms, and Castiel’s expression softened when he watched his husband walking over to be with him. 

As he reached him, Dean kissed Castiel’s temple, and snaked an arm over his shoulder. Cas eased into his touch without a second thought, and they stood for a while in a silent contemplation, until finally, Dean broke the silence. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, and Cas looked up at him curiously. “Earlier… I thought it might help to distract you, but I realise now that you didn’t just _want_ to talk, you needed to talk.” 

Castiel sighed in response. “He got in my head, and he made me do and say some horrible things.” 

“I said some horrible things to you, too.” Dean pointed out, but his heart twinged. He was trying to forgive his husband, but that didn’t make the things he’d said go away. There was still a pang of hurt in his gut when he remembered the words Cas had used, and how easily he’d been led to thinking he was controlling and manipulative. But then maybe that was his own fault. Maybe he should try harder to be a better husband. He’d do anything to get them back to a good place. 

“Only because I was being such an ass.” Cas insisted, and Dean just squeezed him closer. “I was stupid, Dean. So stupid. I let him in. I let him do that to us. I just don’t know why it was so easy for me to listen to him over you. Because you were right, it _was_ obvious what he was like, but I ignored all the signs.” 

“You weren’t stupid, Cas, you were vulnerable. You wanted him to like you and love you, and you were blinded by how much you wanted him to be what he should have been.” 

“Call it what you want, I’m still to blame.” Cas rubbed his eyes, and yeah, there was still hurt in his heart but Dean felt so sorry for him right now. He might have been a royal asshole recently but he’d still been betrayed by his own father. Cas had his own pain to deal with too. Dean pressed another kiss against his forehead while Cas looked down at the floor. 

“But then, maybe I should be better, too.” Dean whispered, his insecurities flooding to the surface as he stared down at the floor too. “You can’t both have got it out of nowhere. Maybe I do try and control you, without meaning to. And although Chuck did turn out to be bad news, maybe I would have been like that with anyone. Maybe I _am_ bitter and jealous, maybe I _am_ too traumatised to let anyone else in.” 

“No.” Cas shook his head. “Don’t… don’t talk like that. Please, don’t. You’re giving him what he wanted if you let yourself believe that. Fuck.” Cas paused to rub through his hair with his hands, voice rising with his distress. “Fuck. I can’t believe you’re thinking like that. It’s my fault, all of it is. You were so much better... so much better. And I... I’ve let you down entirely. Me. Your fucking husband. I was supposed to help you. To keep you safe. And he— he just made me his puppet and I let him. I don’t know how in hell you’re still here. Or why, for that matter. I don’t deserve you, Dean, truly I don’t.” 

Cas sighed, turning to lock on to Dean’s gaze once again. The mechanic was speechless for once, tears falling freely down his cheeks. He knew Cas could see how much pain was in his heart, but he was trying to show him how much he wanted them to get through this, too. 

“Dean, your experiences… you had more insight than I do. And you’re not like you were with Chuck with other people. You’ve let so many people in, like Kevin and Crowley, Naomi… all of our friends. Dean…  I know what I said to you and I couldn’t be more sorry. I know what he made me think but you have to believe in yourself. You’re not controlling in the slightest. Name one thing you’ve tried to control in our relationship, because now that I’m thinking straight I can’t come up with anything.” 

Dean was looking back at the floor, shuffling on his feet, but he nodded. Castiel sighed, before turning into him and lifting his chin to force their eyes to lock.

“I shouldn't have said any of those things to you, Dean. I should have been there for you like you were for me.”

Dean didn't know how to respond to that, so he stayed quiet until the moment grew tense. 

“I shouldn't have let him turn me like that.” 

“You were vulnerable.” Dean repeated, rubbing his face with his hands and wishing Cas would drop it. 

“Stop letting me off so easily.” Castiel almost snapped, clearly irritated with himself. It was like he needed proof that Dean was still hurting, like he wanted to beat himself up some more. Well, whether it was right or wrong, Dean couldn’t resist. 

“What do you want me to say, Cas? No, you shouldn't have said that stuff, but you know that. We both know you’ve fucked up, and I said and did things I regret too. Please just stop apologising. Because I know you’re sorry. I know that. I know you well enough to see how guilty you feel and how much pain is in your heart. And I’m sorry too. Sorry that your dad was as bad as mine. Sorry that you had to go through all of that. It’s just... I need you to stop saying sorry. Because I know you are. I just need time to process it all. I need... ugh.”

“Need to learn to love me again?” Castiel chanced, acutely award of the fact that his husband hadn’t returned the sentiment since it had all come to blows. 

“No!” Dean protested. “Don’t be an idiot. I just... our trust, Cas. You listened to Chuck and to Kevin over me. I just need time to figure that out and to fix it. But more than anything I’m relieved that it’s finally over. And I’m relieved that you’ve seen your mistakes and that you’re trying to make amends. I do love you, and I’m trying to forgive and forget, here. Stop biting the hand that's feeding you.” Dean replied, more calmly than he felt. At that, Cas sighed, chewing down on his bottom lip to stop more tears from falling. Dean breathed out his irritation, and wrapped his arms around the husband he'd come so close to walking out on. All that mattered was that they'd somehow made it through this.

“I don’t trust myself either, any more.” Castiel sighed, and Dean kissed his cheek gently. “I had one job. To be your husband. I had everything I needed. Everything I could ever want, right here. And I got it so wrong.”

“You need time too, to find your footing again. You need time to come to terms with what happened and accept it. That’s all. We’ll do it together.” Dean said, and Cas nodded. 

“It’s not an excuse for the things I’ve said and done.” Cas began again a few moments later, pulling Dean closer. “But you’re right. I wanted a father. I wanted him to be the father I’ve never had, and I wanted him to accept me. Maybe that’s why I listened to him, agreed with all the poisonous stuff he said to me, because I wanted to believe him. It took me far too long to realise what he was doing to us, to you. I was blaming you.” 

“If it’s any consolation, even I thought I was going crazy.” Dean whispered against Castiel’s hair. 

“How is that consolation?” Cas protested, a hand coming up to rub at his cheek. “Now I feel even worse.” 

“Sorry.” Dean said. “I mean, if I didn’t know if it was in my head or not, then it’s no surprise you didn’t either.” 

“I did think you’d lost it.” Cas admitted. “And Naomi thought you were jealous and bitter, and mistrustful because of John. But I should have known you’d healed enough to get past that and see him for who he was. I should have trusted you, because you’re the one person...” Cas trailed off with a groan. “I feel like such a fucking idiot. It was obvious, looking back. How they told me that my mother had overdosed — it sounded so rehearsed. How their house was a mess and smelled like drugs… and like you said, I was _taken_ off of them. How have I been so obtuse?” 

“Well when you put it like that…” Dean shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “It doesn’t matter, Cas. We’ve come out of it ok. No harm done.” 

“No harm?” Cas questioned, looking thoroughly unconvinced. “You told me he was destroying you, Dean, and I believe you. How much has this set you back? And how close did I come to losing you?” 

Rather than address the dark feeling pitted in his stomach, Dean shook his head. “It was tough, sure, but you’d have had to do a lot worse to get rid of me.” He smiled, but it was obvious that his husband could see through his false conviction. Cas knew he’d been closer to breaking than he was letting on. “I love you, Castiel.” He said, and this time all of the emotion behind it was completely genuine. “I love you, I need you, and I will forgive you.” 

With a big sigh and a tiny smile, Cas eyed him carefully. He held his gaze for a few moments, before turning to face him and taking his hand in his own. It was funny, considering they were in their wedding venue, because Dean’s brow furrowed then, when his husband, for the second time in their life, got down on one knee. 

“I love you too.” Castiel smiled. “And I _never_ want to jeopardise that again. You’re an amazing man, and one day down the line, if you'll still have me, you’ll be an amazing father. We’ll be better than they were.” He beamed, and all Dean could do was embrace the flicker of hope in his gut and try not to break down into sobs. 

“Dean, I know I’ve been awful to you. But will you stick with me?” 

With a choked laugh, Dean dragged his husband up off of the floor, and pressed their lips together as his answer. 

 

*

Neither of them had felt like going back to bed. Sure, it might have been 4am, and it was maybe too late or too early to start drinking, but there was still one bar that was serving, and a couple of drinks later they were definitely a lot happier, even if they were getting a really weird look from the bartender, who was probably getting the story of his life serving two A-Listers in their pyjamas. They’d allowed him to take a couple of selfies too, which was probably stupid but might turn out to be hilarious, who knows?

They’d taken to a booth now though, sitting next to each other nice and closely as they nursed a beer each, having taken the bartender’s advice to avoid more whiskey. There was enough of a buzz in Dean’s head right now anyway, so yeah, beer would do the job nicely. 

“I am really sorry.” Castiel said suddenly, after they’d had a silent moment. It was a blunt change from the laughing and joking they’d been doing a minute ago, and Dean wished he’d not brought it up again. 

“Don’t be dumb.” Dean smirked, keen not to have the discussion again. Tonight, he needed to forget and pretend. He needed to remember why he was still here and what he was fighting for. Cas eyed him curiously. “If none of it had happened, then I would have missed out on one of the best moments of my life.” 

“Which was what?” Cas slurred. “We were already married.” 

“Ok, one of the top five moments, then.” Dean grinned. “Watching Naomi slap Chuck in the face.” 

Castiel laughed happily, and it was Dean’s favourite sound in the world. “Yeah, ok, that was pretty amazing.” 

“I didn’t know she had it in her.” Dean grinned. 

“She loves us really.” Cas smirked, and Dean nodded. 

Neither of them knew quite how it happened, but the next thing Dean was consciously aware of, was a small tap on the shoulder. He flashed his eyes open quickly, but he had to squint them closed again, because when in hell had it got light out? 

He glanced down, taking in the sleeping frame of his Oscar-winning husband resting on his chest and snoring away peacefully, and he realised with horror that they’d fallen asleep. And god knows for how long. As he looked up, he met the eyes of a gaggle of hotel staff who were quite obviously trying not to laugh, and he felt the blush creep up his cheeks as he locked eyes with the guy who’d drawn the short straw and been told to wake them. 

“Cas.” He said gently, nudging his husband awake. Oh god, everything hurt. He was so fucking uncomfortable. Castiel stirred, a frown crossing his brows and making him look positively adorable as he pouted, but his eyes stayed closed. 

“Babe.” He tried again, a little more urgency in his tone. The guy who’d woken them had backed off a few paces, but a few of the staff were failing now to hold in their laughs. It was pretty funny, he’d give them that. It would be funny even if they weren’t famous. His husband though, still hadn’t noticed, and clutched him a little tighter. “Castiel!” He said, more insistently. 

“Five more minutes.” Cas complained, but Dean poked his back until he opened his eyes, looking positively irritable until he took in Dean’s pointed look, and turned his head slowly to the side. “Oh.” 

“Yup.” Dean said in response, grateful when Cas pushed off of him and his muscles were allowed to stretch out. _Jesus_. He was going to ache for a week. 

Castiel stood up in a hurry, looking mortified as he stretched out his crumpled T-shirt and dodgy sweatpants. At least they were designer ones. He still had a few pairs of really shitty old things in the back of his closet that he kept because they were so damned comfortable. Dean couldn’t help but grin, though, and as he stood up too he draped an arm around his husband, suppressing a laugh that the hotel staff were clearly joining in with. 

It was definitely in poor taste that this one server stepped forward and asked for a selfie, and the expression on Castiel’s face did turn thunderous, but Dean was quick to agree, because it was fucking hilarious and embarrassing Castiel _was_ his favourite pastime after all. It was quite entertaining then, for him at least, when someone suggested they make it a group shot, and suddenly Dean and Cas were in the centre of this picture, in their pyjamas, with what felt like half of the hotel’s staff. 

It was even funnier, when Dean found it on Instagram later that day, and set it as Naomi’s phone wallpaper, because she’d been so far from impressed. But he’d definitely seen that sparkle in her eyes as he’d teased her, and he knew that really, she was pleased that things had even the slightest chance of getting back to normal. 


	33. Money is the Root of All Evil and Fame is Hell

I chased the picture perfect life, I think they painted it wrong,

**I think that money is the root of evil and fame is hell.**

 

The most difficult thing was finding a way to broach the subject. The more Dean thought about the situation they’d left behind in the US, the more overcome he was with guilt. In the relief of getting Cas to see sense, he’d overlooked a promise he’d made to himself, writing Chuck out of their lives had been easy for him, but he’d sworn he’d help Luke get away. 

The realisation had hit him a couple of nights later, when he’d woken in yet another cold sweat with images of Chuck holding him up by his neck while he struggled for air. It was becoming a regular occurrence, and he was feeling a lot more fragile now than he had before all of this. His lungs would catch again at any reminder of Chuck, or John or Alistair, and more than once he’d had to take himself somewhere alone just so that he could think clearly and breathe deeply. 

This night, as he’d mulled over their shitty past couple of months. He’d recalled the conversation he’d had with his brother-in-law, which after a while he’d half thought could have been imagined, and he’d remembered that he’d abandoned him with an angered Chuck. The guilt had overwhelmed him that night, and although he’d never tell Cas what he did, he’d had to sneak out of their room and wake Naomi to talk it through, because he felt so goddamned awful that he’d forgotten him in the midst of everything. 

Naomi had been good about it, really. She’d reassured him that he’d done the best thing in supporting Castiel to cut Chuck out of their life, and it could have dragged out his husband’s pain if they’d tried to plan a rescue mission simultaneously. It hadn’t stopped him from having a complete freakout in her bedroom in the early hours, though. It hadn’t stopped his lungs from seizing up when he remembered all of his own failed opportunities, either. Or from spilling out his pain and admitting to her how much worse things had become in his mind. He’d told her everything, without his own conscious permission. From how disappointed he’d been that Cas had chosen to listen to Chuck over him, to how much he wanted to be strong, to how close he’d come to giving everything up. 

But it had helped, when she wrapped him in her arms and held him until he’d calmed down again. 

 _Tomorrow_ , she’d reassured him. _We’ll figure something out._

But now, following a rather hurried conversation with Naomi and Kevin while Castiel showered that morning, he was trying desperately to figure out how to bring it up again in front of his husband. Since his apology the other night, they hadn’t so much as mentioned Chuck’s name, and whether it was the wisest thing to do or not, they were all keen to move on and forget about the whole ordeal. That was all well and good, and Dean welcomed pretending Chuck never existed, but now that he had to bring it up again it made it feel a hell of a lot worse. 

“We need to say something to you.” Dean blurted out suddenly over lunch. His sandwich was left more or less untouched on his plate, and he’d caught the questioning gaze Cas had given it, because he wasn’t one to ever turn down food, let alone bacon. 

He hated that this was the way it had to be, hated it, but Dean watched his husband brace himself again, ready for whatever pain they were about to deal him. His own heart was stammering in his chest where it was hurting to even think about it. But Castiel nodded, and Dean sighed, glancing to Naomi for support. 

“Luke.” Dean said softly, and the single word sent a flash of realisation through Castiel’s eyes, flooded out by a guilt as overwhelming as the one he could feel himself. 

Castiel’s hands came up to cover his face, and his head drooped low. When he pulled his hands down, fingertips rubbing into his cheeks, he caught Dean’s eye. “We have to get him out of there.” He said, an echo of Dean’s own sentiments. 

Some two hours later and a fledgling plan was now fully formed. Crowley had organised a team back home that would provide Castiel’s younger brother with an escape and cash to make a new start. Dean didn’t know what happened to the five thousand bucks he’d already donated to Luke’s cause, but he didn’t really care, either. He figured it had been spent on Chuck’s drug habit already, but really, it was pocket money now. 

It hadn’t exactly been an easy task, but they’d called Charlie, and somehow she’d managed to track down the hacker that called himself Lucifer online, to warn him of his imminent removal. Dean felt so relieved when Luke jumped at the chance, and a glance at his husband told him he wasn’t alone in that. 

 

*

 

So really, the backlash had been kind of expected. 

Yeah, sure, Dean had prayed. He’d prayed to anyone or anything who’d fucking listen to give them a break. But of course, he’d known. He’d known what he was getting into the moment he’d decided he had to fight Chuck to help Luke. Chuck was like a fucking parasite, an ongoing problem that had wheedled its way under their skin the minute they’d set eyes on him. 

It was no surprise, at all, to any one of them, when the super-injunction disintegrated. Dean was just glad when the first news broke that Cas was in his arms already, because it made it that much easier to comfort him. 

It turned out that Chuck had gone directly to the press himself when Luke had been removed. The stuff he was spouting turned Dean’s stomach, and he knew that his reputation would suffer over the things that got reported. How could it not, when the headlines were full of such shit?

_Castiel and Dean, the false fairytale they feed us._

Or,

_Inside: The Winchester-Novaks — Dean’s abuse and his fight for control._

That had been a particularly scathing article, one which entailed more direct quotes from his father-in-law than the others, but he’d read it through all the same, even though Cas looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. The world shouting out the same shit that Chuck had poisoned his husband with was hardly aiding their marriage. Castiel was on eggshells again, and those seeds of pain and disappointment that Dean was trying to get past were taunting him, irritating him. He was trying to be the bigger man, trying not to give in to his anger and upset.

It had been nice, he had to admit, having the public on his side these past couple of years, but he’d always known the risks of agreeing to fame and he wasn’t in it for the admiration and respect of the nation. Despite everything, he was still in this for one reason and one reason only, his husband. 

He _was_ pissed off though. Pretty severely. Yeah, sure, it hurt that people were accusing him of all this crap when they barely knew him — even if those who did were backing him up and denying the claims — but more than pain he felt anger. So it was probably a good thing they were four and a half thousand miles away from Kansas right now, because he couldn’t have been sure he wouldn’t do something stupid like try and hunt Chuck down and kill him. 

Charlie had gone publicly on record to defend them. She’d done her first solo interview over the matter, in fact, and had it been in better circumstances Dean would have been pleased for her. She hadn’t known details, though, but she’d definitely put the reporter in his place and pointed the blame in Chuck’s direction. Sam was being hounded again, at work and at home, and there were even a few reporters camping out by the hospital Jess worked at, trying to catch a glimpse of his sister-in-law. They’d taken it in their stride, though, and despite Castiel’s sincerest apologies they’d told him not to worry about it. 

So all that was left, was what they were to do about defending themselves. Their silence over the last week had led to ridiculous speculation, and it was driving Dean completely mad that Chuck was being allowed to run wild with this unchecked. He wanted Cas to defend him, he wanted Cas to prove that he’d stopped believing the crap Chuck had fed him. Some — most — of the allegations he’d heard were completely fabricated. 

They'd talked it through one evening, and it had been a little reluctantly that Castiel had agreed to an impromptu interview. Dean knew that even though he was hurting, his husband was too. He knew that Cas had been dragged through the mill over these last months, and that Chuck had struck when Cas was as low as he ever had been. He knew that. But couldn’t help but harbour his own pain and resentment, and he wished Cas would stand a little taller and just fucking fight for him.  

Castiel would have preferred, if he was going to have to defend his marriage, to do so with Graham Norton again. They’d been fairly friendly ever since Dean’s admissions on his show two years ago, but his show wasn’t currently airing, so they’d settled for another acquaintance, Jonathan Ross. 

Dean had wanted to go out there and defend himself too, but Naomi had disagreed. She was probably right, that if he forced his way into the front of the camera it would only look more like he was controlling and abusive, but the realisation that his defence would lie in the hands of his husband made him feel uncomfortable. He did trust him, when it came down to it, but he couldn’t help those nagging doubts and that trust was still damaged. Besides, Cas just wasn’t up to this yet, needed to stay out of the public eye for some time longer before he got over it himself. 

What made Dean even more sick to his stomach, was Naomi’s insistence that they tell —ok, not a lie — a half truth, rather than slating Chuck’s personality like Dean knew he deserved. _Pettiness, jealousy, anger, none of it comes across well in the public perception,_ she’d said. 

It didn’t mean, though, that as he watched his crestfallen looking husband take to the stage with a weak smile to cheers, that he didn’t feel all of those things in his gut. 

“It’s good to see you again, Castiel.” Jonathan said, and Cas did at least relax a little bit back into the weird, mustard yellow couch.

“Yeah, you too.” Cas smiled. “Shame about the circumstances.” He said, kicking the conversation off immediately. 

The interviewer obviously hadn’t been expecting to jump straight into the nitty gritty details, but the flash of surprise in his expression was quickly replaced with sympathy. Dean had always got on alright with him, the few times they’d met at whatever event.

“You’re never far from drama, you two, are you?” He said with a small smile, and with a chuckle, Castiel eased up a little. “So for anyone that doesn’t know, Castiel’s father has been in the news recently, and I think it’s fair to say he and Dean don’t get on?” 

Dean shuffled, agitated, at the side of the stage. It was fucking torture, watching Cas relive this. He knew how much he needed to just let it go. He knew how much he needed to let it all go, too. Curse their stupid fucking fame. He wished once again, that he’d taken Castiel up on that offer several months ago, to run away and live out their lives together out of the spotlight. 

“No, they don’t get on.” Castiel continued. “I don’t get on with him now, either.” 

“He says that you abducted his son?” Jonathan asked, eyes light and curious. He even had a small smile on his lips. How did these guys do it? Ask such deep questions but maintain the expression of someone who’s having the time of their life. 

“Abducted.” Cas scoffed. “That’s a new word for it. Luke is twenty five years old, and he wanted to leave home. He’s my brother. I just gave him the money and the transport.” 

“So you didn’t ask your security team to remove him by force?” 

“Obviously not.” Cas rolled his eyes, his arms crossed defensively in front of his chest. Dean watched as his husband looked up at him, as their eyes connected across the stage and his expression softened just the smallest amount. They’d get through this together, wouldn’t they? Dean smiled, and Cas smiled lightly back. 

“And what do you have to say about the allegations he’s made about Dean’s behaviour?” Jonathan asked next, staring at him, professionally calm. 

“All false. All of it. Dean’s my _husband_ , and he’s perfect.”

At that, Dean grinned, shooting Cas a wink from the side of the stage which the actor met with a weak smile and a little eye roll. The words were helping to soothe the open sore on his heart, just a little. Jonathan was smiling too, as though he wanted to believe Castiel but still didn’t. Dean eyed the interviewer cautiously as he opened his mouth again. 

“So what _did_ happen, from your point of view? _Why_ is your dad suddenly saying these things if they’re not true?” 

“He’s jealous, I suppose.” Cas said. They’d agreed on what he’d say earlier, but Dean hadn’t thought it would hurt him so much to hear these falsehoods. “We didn’t get on very well. I don’t know, maybe he wants some fame and some money.” He sighed, taking a long pause. “We’re very different people.” Cas went on, and Dean was having to clench his fists together where he was so frustrated. He was furious that Chuck was getting away with this, absolutely livid that he wasn't getting the public shaming he deserved, when his own reputation had been ripped to shreds. First by his own husband, and now by the entire fucking world.  

“Your father — Chuck — he said in an interview yesterday that your adoptive mother was to blame for, and I quote, ‘you being this way’. He says he had issues with the way you’d been raised, and he felt that she’d always let Dean take advantage of you.” Jonathan said, and it was obvious now that he was treading more carefully, while trying to elicit a reaction.

Well, a fucking reaction he was going to get.  

At the comment, Castiel visibly paled. Dean’s breath caught in his throat, and even Naomi tensed at his side. Before she could grab out at him though, Dean had pushed past the manager, storming onto the stage with clenched fists. His anger was boiled in his stomach, and his heavy breathing gave away his frustrations. His eyes held firm, full of anger and pain, but his bottom lip wobbled with his sadness. 

As he reached the middle of the stage, Castiel pulled out of his seat, skin still a deathly white from the comment as he threw his arms around Dean’s back to try and stand him down, but although Dean did glance down into his eyes to meet the pain in them, he held his convictions. 

“He can say what he wants about me.” Dean said, turning back to face the interviewer who looked about as unsurprised at the sudden intrusion as Cas did. “But he ever brings her up again…” He trailed off, realising that threatening Chuck would be about the least sensible thing he could do given their current circumstances. His rage was making his limbs shake and his breath shallow. “Evelyn was an amazing woman.” Dean said in her defence. He thought back to who his husband was when he was her son, not Chuck’s, and his heart yearned for that man. “And she raised a man that’s kind and strong, patient and forgiving. She was worth a hundred times more than he ever will be.” 

“Can we get Dean a mic?” Jonathan said suddenly, and as soon as a crew member rushed forward to hand Dean a microphone set, which he clipped in on his own, he could hear Naomi yelling down the earpiece. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She was hissing, positively seething. She was powerless now he was out here, he knew. She could no more remove him from the stage than convince him to remove himself. If she got Kevin to drag him off, it would be seen of confirmation that he was abusive or dangerous. “This is _not_ what we had planned. Don’t you _dare_ say anything stupid.” 

But he was too fucking angry to listen to her right now, particularly when his gut instinct was to defend himself and his husband from all the threats in their path. Right now, she was fucking one of them. He lifted his hand to the earpiece and pulled it out, eyes narrowed and cold. He took a seat on the yellow couch, glancing over to the back of the stage and shooting Naomi a glance that told her he was doing things _his way._

When Cas joined him, sitting close enough that it convinced any doubters of their relationship, and wrapping an arm loosely around his back, Dean opened his mouth again. He hoped his husband’s support and lack of complaint meant he was on board with this. 

“I was told not to tell the truth.” He said irritably, and even he could hear how goddamn _sad_ he sounded. “I was told not to comment, not to buckle under the pressure, and to pretend that things are just fine. Well things _aren’t fine._ Ever since that asshole cornered him at Comic Con, Cas has been trapped by him. He’s a manipulative addict and he’s downright dangerous.” Dean spat. 

He watched Naomi’s eyes slowly roll at the edge of the stage, watched her hands come up to cover her face in dread and disbelief. At his side, Cas was silent, pale, calculating. This could be the dumbest move he’d ever pulled, but he’d started now. He had to go on before he lost his nerve. 

“Sure, he’s been willing to pass the buck, put all the blame on me. I’m not perfect, I don't pretend to be. Me and Cas, we bicker sometimes, but I’d never hurt him… and he’d never intentionally hurt me.” Dean had listened to one thing Naomi had told them. They had to keep their marital issues to themselves. Confirmation of their problems would lead to speculation. “Before all this... we have a good, loving marriage, we truly do. He’s the problem. He’s the one that couldn’t deal with us, he’s the one that tried _and failed,_ to come between us.” 

Failed might not be strictly true, but Chuck didn't need to know that. 

“And I bet he hasn’t told you _why_ Cas was adopted, has he?” Dean continued, voice rising the angrier he got, so he was getting louder with every realisation of their pain. He’d thought he could forgive and forget all of this, but the fact that he was almost screaming now seemed to suggest otherwise. He lucky his husband wasn't trying to speak because he might have shot him down too. Jesus, he was so fucking angry. Angry with everyone and everything. “It wasn’t optional. Cas was removed. Removed because that asshole set fire to the house he was in when he was high. He killed his wife. He put Cas in the hospital.” 

Jonathan’s eyes had fallen wide open now, and Dean knew he had his audience where he wanted them. Strangely enough, that piece of information hadn’t made its way to the press yet, and the reveal hit home. 

“Yeah, sure, none of you knew that. What a surprise he didn’t mention it.” He seethed sarcastically. “I don’t suppose he mentioned either that he abuses his son? I don’t suppose any of you thought to question _why_ Cas and I wanted Luke out of there?” He basically yelled, and when he finished, he was met with nothing but deafening silence. 

It was one of those life changing moments. Like the one he’d had back at his old apartment, where he’d defended Cas to the press when he'd been found out as gay. He hadn’t wanted to talk, but maybe he’d needed to. Now, he felt strong, he felt in control, but nothing felt right. Each pounding of his heart hurt worse than the last, and more than anything he wanted to be alone. Even Castiel’s arm around his back felt wrong. 

“Dean.” Jonathan said after a few moments passed where everyone was stunned in silence. “I can see that you’re upset. But these are serious allegations.” 

“They’re not allegations, with all due respect.” Dean said, voice now steadier. At his side Cas was sat in silence, staring at the floor with a mixture of shock and sadness, while at the edge of the stage, Naomi was staring at him, aghast. “It’s fact.” 

The blanketed, awkward silence hung over the room, no one quite sure what to say. With every passing second Dean felt a little more uncomfortable, mainly because his husband remained quiet. He’d started to panic already that he’d crossed a serious line, here. He had a sudden realisation of how much he cared, and his heart lurched without sympathy. But surely Cas would forgive him, considering the things he'd done himself. Thirty more seconds passed before he turned to look Castiel in the eye, and he let out a small sigh of relief when Cas met his gaze, even if there was fear and uncertainty in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered to his husband, unsure when he’d started to cry. He felt so angry and pent up that he might have been crying ever since he stepped foot on the stage, he really didn’t know. Castiel’s expression softened at the sight of it, though. “I didn’t mean to —”

“—I know.” Cas interrupted him. He reached a hand out to stroke Dean’s cheek, and the smallest of smiles lifted the corners of his lips, sending a wave of relief washing through Dean’s heart. “It’s ok. I know.” 

“You two have been through a lot.” Jonathan commented. The interviewer was obviously uncomfortable and Dean could tell he felt for them both. He scoffed in response, dragging a rogue tear from his cheek with the ball of his hand. He felt a little better after his outburst, and it was nice that Castiel’s thumb was rubbing his back because it made him feel safer, accepted, and he knew he was still loved. 

“He hit a nerve.” Cas piped up suddenly, and Dean glanced his way but his husband’s attention was on the interviewer again now. He had a small, ironic smile on his lips that Dean mirrored. “Chuck never knew her. My… my real mom.” Cas looked like he’d had to try and figure out how to define Evelyn. Dean was pleased with the description he’d chosen. “She was the most accepting, supportive, kind hearted woman you’d ever meet. And he is the complete, polar opposite of her.” 

Cas sucked in a breath, voice starting to catch as he remembered his mom. Dean took his free hand in his own in support, pleased that his husband was opening up too. It would help them in the long run to be honest, or at least, he hoped it would.  

“I can’t… I can’t sit here and listen to things he’s said about her because its all lies, and I can’t let him ruin her memory. And I can’t sit here without defending Dean, either. He’s my husband for a reason.” Cas smiled, and his eyes caught Dean’s once again. Dean felt love wash through his veins, to his relief, and he smiled back. “Chuck tried to make me think it, tried to poison me against him. And he nearly succeeded. I nearly lost Dean in all this. I nearly— I haven’t forgiven myself for that. But Dean is the furthest thing from controlling, or abusive. He’d never hurt anyone intentionally.” Cas let out a little chuckle then, and Dean wondered what he was about to say. Cas looked back at Jonathan, who was watching them with a smile on his lips. “Dean’s a little protective over me, sure, and he’s loyal to a fault. But it’s only because he cares so damned much. I love him, and Chuck hasn’t changed that.” 

And fucking hell, Dean was trying not to cry again. His eyes flashed up and he caught sight of Naomi, watching them with a smile and a twinkle in her gaze. Stupid or not, she was proud, he knew. He let his husband pull him into a hug, but it seemed Cas wasn’t done confessing, not yet anyway. 

“This whole mess is my fault.” Castiel continued. “I let Chuck in. I let him plant doubts and I let them eat away at me, because I was curious and I wanted to know what having a dad could be like. I was just trying to fill the hole that my mom left when she died, but he’ll never fit in her shoes. He didn’t want me, anyway. Probably never did. He just wanted my money. He tried to ruin us. He tried, but he failed. We’re hurting, sure, but we’re together, and that’s what matters.”

 

*

 

Even though Dean could see that really, Naomi was proud of the way they’d handled things on stage, she made her distaste for his lack of compliance apparent through the next twenty four hours. He’d felt a lot better about everything, even though the interview had yet to air, and he knew that Cas did too. Although their pain remained raw, it felt more open. Like they understood it better and knew how the other was feeling and when to respect privacy. It made them stronger, and although the road to true forgiveness was longer than that, it was the path that they were on. 

It was obvious to both of them, though, that Naomi was concerned about the interview airing tonight. They’d sat together, the three of them, and watched it on TV, and Dean was pretty grateful to find that he came across less crazy than he’d felt. They just looked hurt, upset, and damaged. His outburst had left him less angry, now, and his head was processing things more reasonably since he’d gotten it all out in the open. He just hoped they got better treatment in the press after this. An apology would be nice, but it seemed unlikely. 

“I think you two need to be prepared for legal action.” Naomi said suddenly, as the credits were rolling on the TV. Dean’s heart dropped as he looked over to where she sat on the other, lilac couch, and he furrowed his brow. 

“Why?” He asked, completely oblivious. 

“Because if I was Chuck, I’d sue you for slander.” Naomi said, matter-of-fact. Dean swallowed, twisting his head to meet his husband’s eyes. “There’s a reason why you shouldn’t just barge your way onto national television and speak your mind, Dean. Fact, not opinion.” 

“I just hope it doesn’t come to that.” Cas chewed down on his lip, and Dean was overwhelmed by panic and confusion. “That could take years. We still don’t know when Alistair’s trial will be.”

“He can’t sue us for slander.” Dean said, heart racing. He didn’t want to think about having to go to court, not for Alistair, and not for Chuck. “He can’t, because I told the truth.” 

“Dean…” Naomi sighed, rubbing her face with her fingertips. “ _We_ know its the truth, but you haven’t got any proof. I’m not saying I think we’d lose. I think if it comes down to it we’ll be fine, but he’s got every right to take you to court over this.” 

“I _have_ got proof!” Dean protested. 

“No, Dean, you’ve got some newspaper cut outs from almost thirty years ago. You do a background check on him and all you get is that he was interviewed by the police following his wife’s death. Not hugely unusual given the circumstances. And I don’t know how, but the newspaper articles Evelyn found don’t seem to exist any more, not that you can rely on hearsay. Chuck wasn’t charged, remember? Lack of evidence, or whatever, but it won’t stand up for a jury.” 

“Can’t we sue him back?” Dean asked, because he was starting to see how much shit he’d landed them in. “Can’t we get the police to reopen the cases?” 

“I don’t want that.” Castiel interjected, looking pale and uncomfortable. “I don’t want to go through that. I need this to be over.” 

“I know you do.” Dean said quietly, feeling similarly. But he was still waiting for Naomi to answer his question. 

“We could threaten it. We could speak to the police. But it doesn’t mean it’ll work.” She said finally in response. 

“Maybe I should call him. I can tell him I’ll involve the cops and that I’ll testify against him. Maybe I could get Luke to testify…” Dean said, trailing off in thought. 

“Luke doesn’t need to go through that either.” Cas pointed out. 

“No.” Naomi sighed, but she looked uncertain for once. “He probably doesn’t. But no, Dean, don’t call him, whatever you do. If anyone’s speaking to him it’ll be me. No one fucks with you two without my consent.” 

The way she almost mothered them made Dean feel a little warm inside. He smiled at her protectiveness, cheeks tinging red with the embarrassment and the happiness it brought him. His heart was still pounding away though, mind racing with possible outcomes. Naomi had already dialled the number by the time a suggestion fought its way to the forefront of his mind, and it slipped from his tongue before he could process it any longer. 

“Stop.” He demanded of Naomi, and she tilted her head in a manner that reminded him of Castiel and his mother, but she did hang up the phone before it could ring out. “I’ve got an idea.” 

 

*

 

He’d told a white lie to Naomi. Or maybe it was a little more grey than white. He’d lied to her, at any rate. Cas had shot him a curious look when he’d said he’d seen illegal paraphernalia in the house, because of course he’d been there more times and never spotted anything of a questionable nature, but Dean was sure if he could get the cops to look they’d find _something_ incriminating. Particularly if he got someone to put it there. 

Yeah, morally, it was dubious. But Chuck deserved to be in prison already for the things he’d done, and the way he saw it, he was keeping a criminal off of the streets and doing the public a favour, as well as protecting himself and his husband from what would probably turn out to be a lengthy and costly lawsuit that they _really_ didn’t need.

He took Castiel into their bedroom with him as he made the call. His heart was racing and he was sweating a little, but he looked into his husband’s eyes before he confessed the reality of the plan he’d come up with. 

“I’m going to get him arrested.” He said, voice shaking a little. “And this is morally ambiguous.” 

Castiel’s eyes narrowed and he sucked in a breath. “What are you going to do?” 

“Plant evidence.” Dean said quietly, looking uncertain. “I’m going to call Luke.” 

His husband didn’t complain as he hit Luke’s number and called him. He didn’t say anything when he answered and Dean started making smalltalk — _How is it going? Are you safe? —_ and when Dean’s voice became strained as he started bringing the subject onto the point of his call, Cas just watched him with a curious, nervous gaze. 

“Luke, I’ve called because I need a favour.” Dean admitted, shuffling uncomfortably where they sat together on the edge of their bed. “It’s about your dad.” 

“I saw the stuff he’s been saying about you.” Luke replied. “I feel guilty that he’s saying that because of me, when you’ve helped me. What do you need?” 

“I know you won’t want to talk to anyone, but there’s another way you can help.” Dean said, and he took Luke’s silence to be his prompt to continue. “I want to get him arrested. I think I can organise the police to search the house, but they have to have something to find.” He went on. “Do you think you can hack into his computer?” 

At his side, Castiel’s eyes had widened at the realisation of where his husband was going with this, and he looked away. Dean noticed, but he couldn’t stop now. This was their way out. It had to be. 

“Uh, yeah, of course.” Luke responded. 

“If there’s nothing incriminating…” Dean began, but he felt sick to the stomach at the thought of suggesting they lie. 

“If there’s nothing incriminating on there it’ll be a miracle, for starters.” Luke said, voice dark. “He’s into some weird shit. But yes, if there isn’t, I’ll make sure there’s enough to get him sent down.” 

He’d felt pretty weird through, for the rest of the evening, at least until he’d received Luke’s message. His stomach churned, but he showed Cas the words on the screen. 

‘Didn’t have to do anything. Don’t worry. Get your cops in. He’s going down.’ 


	34. Blinded by Your Grace

Although I'm not worthy,

You fixed me, 

**I'm blinded, by your grace**

You came and saved me.

 

The following few days had been tense. Despite the conviction Luke had maintained about his hatred for his abusive father, Dean couldn’t help but have his doubts. He still hadn’t asked what had happened the last time he’d tried to help him, whether Luke had been caught with his money or he’d betrayed Dean’s trust and gone to Chuck himself. Perhaps he shouldn’t have put his faith in this kid. He was starting to panic, and every day that passed without news made him feel worse and worse. 

But, on the evening of the third day, the media blew up. 

 _The Truth About Chuck Shurley,_ the headlines read. Naomi had come bustling into the living room as soon as she heard, brandishing her iPad and switching the TV to Fox News. Castiel had been sitting away from him on the other couch, but he lifted up and came over so that he could better see the screens. 

Chuck had been arrested earlier that afternoon, the photographs showed, following an anonymous tip police had found indecent images on his computer. He’d been charged, and finally it was over. The images, of course, were those taken by Alistair of Dean all those years ago. 

Although it turned Dean’s stomach to think that Chuck had been viewing images that had ruined so much of his life, he couldn’t help but be pleased, in a roundabout sort of way, that he’d personally been Chuck’s downfall. Castiel, though, hadn’t taken the news as well. He seemed far more bothered by the fact, and when Dean chanced a look in his eyes, something they’d barely done over the last few days, he could see what his husband was thinking. This was another reminder of Dean’s past trauma, another reminder of how badly he’d let him down, and something else for him to feel guilty over. 

It wasn’t like their marriage had _completely_ fallen apart. Dean still loved him. More than anything. Undeniably in the same way as before, if the twitching of his cock when he saw him in the shower had any inclination on his feelings. But something was, well, different. It was like there was a deep, carved out hole somewhere in between them that they couldn’t quite reach over that left a nagging ache. It was a growing chasm of mistrust and pain that Dean knew Cas could feel too, and he wondered if maybe time was all that would fix it. 

The choice he’d been presented with today hadn’t been an easy one. Should he stay in the hotel room, avoiding his husband and feeling sorry for himself, or should he at least try and get back to work? 

He’d chosen to work in the hope that it would be enough of a distraction. He’d figured that doing something to help kids like himself and Luke might feel like a victory over men like John and Chuck. He’d prayed that winning these smaller battles might help him to forgive and forget. 

Naomi had accompanied him to the headquarters of the nonprofit. He knew that she was there more to keep an eye on him than for managerial purposes. He wasn’t stupid enough not to realise just how unstable he’d been acting in the last few days now that some of the drama had died down and the media had become bored. The looks that Kevin would shoot him, worried and alarmed, were enough of a clue. And he’d seen Naomi’s cautious glances, watched her stare at him nervously if anything was mentioned on the TV, and he knew she’d figured out how quickly he was descending now that the shock of everything was passing. 

Like he had when he’d remembered his promise regarding Luke, some nights he needed to talk. And on those nights, he’d go to her. He was grateful, really, that he had someone looking out for him. His husband had withdrawn and all but stopped talking to him. He was glad of that too, in some ways. It hurt so fucking much to pretend now that his overwhelming desire to protect him had faded. Physically, they were both safe. Mentally, they were both in tatters. 

So today he was working. Or trying to, at least. He’d underestimated it, how much all of this had brought back. It hadn’t for months, but when he tried to look at photos of abuse, when they played him their newest ad campaign, it brought back his own pain, and suddenly, he was that boy again. The one from Lawrence who was beaten black and blue, drowned, strangled, burned. 

He couldn’t take it. Not today. 

Black dots swarmed his vision, the bitter familiarity of them causing bile to rise to the back of his throat. His lungs were tight and for all his efforts he couldn’t force more than a slither of oxygen inside. His heart sped up, colliding with tender ribs, and he _just couldn’t_ do it. 

Dean stood, careening out of the conference room, hands out in front of him, searching by touch where his vision was of limited use. He stumbled blindly forwards, tripping up, half supported by the wall to his right. He hit a door, and he fell through it, landing on his ass and bringing his knees up to his chest. He buried his face down between them, backing against a wall, but he couldn’t see or hear or feel. 

Minutes passed, probably. When he came to, Naomi was crowded in front of him, sitting back on her knees with his head tucked against her chest. Her breaths were loud and slow, but she made no other sound. She was waiting for him to be ready, he knew. 

He gasped a breath into sore lungs, and shook his head to dispel the darkness. After a pause, he pulled back, scanning the surroundings of the broom closet he’d fallen into before he finally met her eyes. She watched him sadly, gaze riddled with guilt, and Dean knew what she was thinking and how sorry she was. He held nothing against her, though. She’d tried to listen, but Chuck had sweet-talked his way around it. Besides, she’d been there to talk to, and she’d tried harder than his husband had to understand. 

“This was a thoughtless idea, and much too soon.” Naomi said quietly after a few minutes had passed. She was still kneeling in front of him, and their eyes hadn’t moved away from each other’s. She was seeing into his soul, and he was letting her. 

“I needed to get out of the hotel.” Dean explained, to which she nodded. 

“You and Castiel…” She began, unsure how to ask, but he understood and she knew it. “Your marriage?”

If he was being honest? He didn’t know himself whether this could be fixed. He shook his head gently, and shrugged as her face fell. 

 

*

 

When he’d returned to the hotel that night, everything really fucking hurt. He’d told Sam as much, when he’d eventually returned one of his brother’s calls. He knew why he’d been reluctant to speak to him, in the same way he knew he may have been hasty in leaving the US. He was expecting his brother’s frustration once he learned the full story, and he was hardly surprised by the younger man’s reaction.

“Why didn’t you speak to me sooner?” Sam asked, voice rising in frustration and disbelief. “Why did you let it get so bad before you reached out to me? For fuck’s sake, Dean, I’m not still that kid that you need to protect. Sometimes you need protecting too.” 

“I know, I—”

“I’m not done. I just can’t believe it was Cas. Your own fucking husband. I mean… Jesus! Why didn’t you come and stay with me and Jess? He doesn’t deserve you. You should have walked out on him. You should still walk out on him.” 

“Sam… it’s _Cas._ ” Dean protested. 

“Yeah, and you’re you, Dean. Despite everything the two of you have gone through he still hurt you.”  

“He didn’t set out to, Sammy. I was just collateral to Chuck’s manipulation.” 

“You still believe that? Really, Dean? You’re still protecting him? Who’s protecting you?” Dean could hear his brother’s disbelief and it sent a stabbing pain through his heart. 

“It’s not… I don’t need protecting any more, he’s not hurting me now.” 

“So things have just gone back to normal between you? You’ve forgiven and forgotten?” 

“No… I… no.” Dean admitted, resigned. 

“And you’re pain free, and your panic attacks haven’t come back?” 

“Look, Sam, I know what you’re thinking, but I’m ok. I am. I’m fine.” The lie couldn’t be more obvious, and on the other end of the line Sam huffed an irritable breath. 

“Come and stay with me and Jess for a while, please. You need space from him.” His brother begged. 

“Cas isn’t like Dad, I’m not being abused for fuck’s sake. It’s _Cas_.” 

“It doesn’t matter who the fuck he is, Dean. What you described? That's abuse. He might not have beat you like dad but if he’s hurting you, you need out.” Sam’s voice was showing the telltale signs of his anger again, and Dean took a slow breath to dispel his pain and panic. 

“He’s not hurting me now. He’s not. Sam, you don’t understand. You haven’t seen him. He knows what he’s done, and he’s so guilty. He’s completely withdrawn from everything and everyone. If I leave him now? I… I can’t, Sam. I just can’t. I love him. And he’s still the man I married inside. He’s just lost, and he needs my help.” 

“Like you needed his?” Sam accused. 

“I’ve made my own mistakes in the past, and he’s forgiven me.” Dean pointed out. 

“You were a child, Dean. You were an abused child who had no idea what else to do. You hurt him for his own good. He’s a grown man —”

“A grown man who’s carrying around all that pain.” 

“And you aren’t?”

“Sam.” Dean snapped, anger, frustration and pain all channelled into one word. “I will _not_ leave him over this. And that’s final.” 

 

*

 

Today’s interview had been something of a disaster. His head and heart were fighting for sole control so much that it was a miracle he got any words out at all. His mind was a mess of guilt and pain and disbelief, and he was so tired. He’d been pretending to sleep for days, with Dean sleeping restlessly at his side, but in reality he could probably count on his fingers the hours of sleep he’d achieved in the week since they came to the UK. 

It was like with every minute that passed his guilt got worse and his heart felt heavier. All he heard at night was his own scathing voice, and the poisoned thoughts that had run through his mind. _Not everyone’s father is abusive, Dean. Fuck you, Dean. He’s being a dick._ _Stop trying to control my life._ All that he could feel was remorse, disbelief, and overwhelming pain. 

He’d thought about it, tried to find reasons for his actions, but he didn’t like the ones he came up with. Fuck, he needed help. 

He’d removed himself from the others, or maybe they’d removed themselves from him. Whatever the case, he was alone in the suite’s living area when the door was knocked. His head turned to look in its direction. It was too late for housekeeping and he didn’t know that anyone had ordered room service. At the sound, Kevin emerged from his bedroom to the left, and Dean appeared hesitantly from a door to his right. Kevin took a few strides forward and pulled the door open unceremoniously. 

At the sight of their visitor, Castiel’s heart sank. He pulled a shallow breath into his suddenly tight lungs as he looked up at the tall silhouette in the doorway that glared at him with dark eyes, and his arms crossed defensively across his middle. 

“Oh. Hi Sam.” He started, voice stuttering a little with nerves. He knew he was about to be royally destroyed for his behaviour. Dean must have contacted him. His husband must be faring up less well than he was letting on. Cas started again, strained and panicked. “What brings you here?” 

“What do you think?” Sam said simply, stepping inside and handing a surprised looking Kevin his coat. His friend’s voice was laced with threats, and because of the personal conversation they were clearly about to have, the security guard left the room. “I’m looking out for my brother.” 

The pause that followed could only be described as tense. Dean hadn’t said anything yet from the side of the room, but Castiel’s eyes flashed to him nervously. His husband was staring at his brother, unsurprised, but wary. 

“Sam.” Dean said his name in warning, and Sam dragged his gaze in his direction. 

“What, so it’s alright that you called me the other night in a worse state than you’ve been in in years, saying how your own husband has betrayed you and let you down?” Sam asked, voice calm, collected, but with undertones of fury.

Dean shifted on his feet, looking mortified and upset. Castiel knew his own expression betrayed his own embarrassment and shock, but he hoped the brothers could see his remorse. 

“It’s alright that your husband, the one person I trusted to look after you, to take care of you and put you first, has so blatantly disregarded you as soon as he had something else to take his attention?” Sam went on, and Cas could feel his tears brimming to the surface of his eyes already. 

“Sam.” Dean repeated. “Stop.” 

“No, Dean. I won’t stop.” Sam refused. “I won’t stop until he knows what he’s done and he understands just how badly he’s fucked up.” 

With that, Cas felt his heart break. 

“I know, Sam.” He admitted, more calmly than he’d have thought possible. “I know what I did. I know it borders on abuse and I don't expect you to forgive me.” 

“Then _why_ , Cas? He’s been through so damned much. I never thought… I trusted you. You were supposed to protect him. Like he’s protected all of us for his whole fucking life. He needed you! Why? Why did you do that?” 

“I don’t know.” Cas said quietly, but strictly it wasn’t true, and the lawyer spotted his tell immediately. 

“Why, Cas?” 

“Sam, I don’t know.” Cas refused. He couldn’t explain the reasons he’d found. He could barely accept them himself, and they’d never forgive him. 

“Why?!” Sam yelled then, and Cas flinched. “I don’t care who you are, Castiel. So help me god. You _ever_ hurt him again…” 

“It’s not like I set out to hurt him!” Cas protested, voice rising in response. His limbs were shaking and those tears had almost spilled over. “I didn’t want things to turn out like this! He’s my husband and I love him for fuck’s sake.” 

“Do you?” Sam snapped angrily. 

“Yes!” Cas yelled. “But—” He trailed off. He couldn’t explain. He couldn’t. But one look at his husband showed his overwhelming alarm. He could see how Dean’s heart had fallen. He was so unworthy of that man.

“But what?” Dean asked, heartbroken. 

“But I’ve broken it. I’ve broken us.” 

“Why, Cas?” Sam repeated. “Why would you do and say those things? You know he’s not controlling. He’s been through so much—”

“—I know he’s had it worse but I’ve still been through it with him!” Cas yelled, realising it was all coming out without his permission. “I wasn’t beaten, no, but I was left. I was head over heels in love with him, and for ten years I was his hostage. I didn’t know what was wrong with me or why I wasn’t enough to keep him. I love him, Sam. More than fucking anything. And I was paralysed by it.”

Castiel took a deep breath and tried to level his voice. He barely succeeded. “And I know that what he did back then wasn’t because of me. I know that now. But all the fucking shit we’ve been through, all that pain? It’s all linked back to Dean. Chuck told me he was controlling me, and for some shitty reason my stupid, fucked up mind associates him with pain. My own fucking husband. And Chuck used that pain to turn me. But I can’t help it. I can’t —“

“—You associate me with pain?!” Dean all but screamed, and Castiel was stopped in his tracks. “Cas I know I hurt you before but that’s not an excuse. You know you were the only one I trusted to… to save me.” 

Cas stared at his husband and it was agony, seeing what he’d done. More than anything he wanted just to hold him, but it wouldn’t help anything right now, and he didn’t deserve the touch. 

“I’m not trying to come up with excuses. I’m trying to explain.” He said, aware that there were tears on his cheeks now, to match those on Dean’s. “Chuck dragged me to an edge, used unresolved feelings from my subconscious, and he pushed me over. Dean, as much as I love you, our lives aren’t easy and they never have been.” 

“So let me get this straight. What you’re saying, is that Chuck was right? Your life has been controlled by me?” Dean asked in disbelief. 

“Indirectly, yes.” Cas whispered, wiping his cheeks. “My heart, anyway. I get it, I do, but all those years, I couldn’t move on.” 

“So it’s all my fault, all of this?” 

“No, that’s not what I—”

“You let me down, Cas! And you have the audacity to say it’s because I hurt you before? After everything I’ve —we’ve been through?” Dean yelled suddenly, and Cas choked. 

“I— I know.” He nodded. “And I can’t forgive myself for it.” 

And with that, he sat on the couch and hung his head in his hands, unable to meet the eyes of either Winchester. He was so fucking useless, and all he’d ever done was bring Dean pain. Maybe he’d be better off without him. Maybe he should just… No. It was better not to think like that. He couldn’t give up. It would be worse than letting them both down again. He had to fight. He had to try. But things were so hopeless right now. 

After a few moments of a tense silence, he felt a hand reach out to his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. He didn’t deserve their sympathy. But the hand returned and pushed back, and he looked up into his husband’s eyes. There was a sympathetic expression on his husband’s face, but he didn’t understand why. He could see that Dean was still mad at him, though, and he knew he would be for a long time yet. Dean sighed, running his spare hand through his hair, and Cas knew he was as broken as he felt himself. But Dean took his other shoulder in his hand and pulled them closer together so that Castiel’s head rested against his stomach.

His eyes met Sam’s, then, and the disappointment was still there, but the anger had dissipated. He could see through the lawyer’s eyes exactly what he was thinking. He could see how much Cas loved his brother, and how strongly Dean returned the sentiment. It was going to be a long road and it would take a lot of work, but with time, he might eventually be forgiven. 

 

*

 

That night Dean woke in a cold sweat. His hands were grasping out, his breaths laboured and shallow. His mind was full of the images that had just woken him, so when his eyes landed on Castiel’s he tried to push him away. Luckily though, Castiel held him firm, strong hands coming out to grip his biceps and steady him. Caring eyes boring into his soul and a gentle tongue soothing him. 

“You’re alright.” Cas whispered, one hand going up to brush a rogue hair from his forehead now that he was seeing in focus. “It’s just a bad dream.”

If only it had been _just_ a bad dream. But Dean was grateful for the comfort nonetheless. He sort of wanted a hug, but recently they hadn’t held each other so much and Dean had been wondering if that form of separation was part of the healing and forgiving process. It had felt strange, holding his husband after the argument Sam had started. He nodded, anyway, breathing away the reminders as he allowed himself to stare into his husband’s eyes. They were so different to the ones he’d seen in his nightmare. 

“How come you’re awake?” Dean asked quietly, when his breathing had returned to normal. Castiel looked far too alert to have just been woken by his thrashing. 

Castiel huffed a laugh, rolling onto his back and darting his eyes up to the ceiling. “Bad dream.” He offered in explanation. There was a long pause, the moment growing somewhat tense while both men tried to find the words. “What were you dreaming of?"

Dean didn’t really want to tell him the answer, because it was 2am and he knew his husband would be upset and guilty if he went into it. He’d rather go back to sleep and face the nightmares than tell Castiel how he was honestly feeling right now. So instead he just shrugged. 

“Every night I’m dreaming of him.” Castiel began hesitantly, and his eyes found Dean’s once more. He had that guilty expression already, and Dean knew that they were talking about this whether he wanted to or not. Maybe they _needed_ to talk about it again, privately. “Of Chuck, of John, of Alastair. Of every fucking time I’ve let you down.” 

Dean sucked in a slow breath, and considered lying to make Cas feel better. But the look in his husband’s eyes said he needed honesty, and if he was true to himself, maybe it would help him to heal. He desperately wanted their marriage to get back to normal but it wasn’t happening like this. Sam had been right. Maybe they needed to work on it. Maybe it wasn’t going to be as straightforward as forgive and forget. 

“I dreamt of you.” Dean sighed, decision made. He kept his eyes locked on Castiel’s while he spoke, so that he could comfort him should his heart break. “Not this you. Not… not _you_. But the you that he turned.” 

To his surprise, Castiel nodded. “That version of me haunts me too.” 

And once again there was a long, painful pause where neither knew what to say to the other. Dean could see it all. They were both hurting, both damaged, both searching for forgiveness. It was horrible, seeing Castiel’s pain laid out bare and knowing he could do nothing to help. He’d been manipulated and used, and the actor had to deal with guilt on top. He loved him, and even though Castiel had been in the wrong, even after all of the things he’d said and done, it was awful to see.  

“How close did I come to losing you?” Cas asked suddenly, a few minutes later. 

“Why? So you can beat yourself up about it some more?” The question took Dean aback, because it was another he didn’t want to answer but, really, he wondered if he had to for his husband’s own sanity. 

“If that’s what I deserve, then yeah.” 

“Cas… agh. You didn’t lose me. I’m still he—”

“—Dean. Please.” Cas interrupted. “You’re physically here. But you’re not…. half the time you’re not _here._ If you were alright you wouldn’t be calling Sam in a state. He wouldn’t have been worried enough to come.” 

They paused again, until Dean finally submitted to giving him what he wanted. “Hours.” He answered simply. 

“What?” Cas looked more shocked than Dean had predicted. It had obviously been worse than Cas had realised. 

“Hours, Cas. You were hours away from losing me. I’d… I’d told Naomi. And if you’d gone through with that business deal, I wouldn’t have gone back to LA with you. I was going to turn up on Sammy’s doorstep.” Dean had wondered if being honest would have felt good. It didn’t. It felt awful. And watching Castiel’s face fall felt even worse. 

“I didn’t see how bad things had got until that day.” Cas whispered then. Dean could see he was accepting it, and how he was sorry to the bottom of his heart. “I didn’t listen to you.” 

“You did eventually. You did in time, Cas.” He said, feeling like he had to say something just to help his husband out of the slump he was in. 

“Barely.” Cas breathed. “It took all of you. The people I’m closest to, it took you all. Why didn't I trust your judgment? Look at what I’ve done to us. Look at the state of our marriage, Dean.” 

“We’re… yeah things aren’t perfect… but… Cas, I… I still love you.” Dean stuttered. 

“Is that enough?” Cas asked, and Dean felt his stomach drop like the world had fallen out from under his feet. Was Cas going to leave _him_? No. No, no, no. He can’t. He _can’t_. 

“So what, you’re going to walk out on me now?” Dean snapped, unable to help himself. Everything inside him thumped with hurt and shock and he was praying, _praying_ that Cas wasn’t about to end them for good. He wouldn’t survive it. He knew he wouldn’t. Not after everything he’d been through. 

“Walk out on you? What? Is that what you want?” Cas asked, and his wide eyes gave Dean relief, because it was very obviously _not_ what Cas wanted. 

“No.” Dean shook his head, choking air back in. “No I don’t want that. Fuck. No. Please… please don't. I just… I just want _us_ back. The real us.” 

He watched relief wash through Castiel as it had washed through him. “Me too.” Cas breathed. “Me too. I want that. But I… I don’t know. I can’t trust myself with you. And you said yourself that you can’t trust me. I think we… we need to take some time.” 

“Time? You can have all the time you want, Cas, but you are _not_ leaving me.” Dean insisted, still a little shaken up. “You are staying right here where I can keep an eye on you.” 

Cas smiled then, an ironic, sad smile. As if he too was worried that someone else might try and manipulate him. “I need to earn the right to be your husband, Dean. And I need to forgive myself before I can do that.” 

“If it helps, Cas, I’m trying to forgive you.” Dean said quietly. The pain hadn’t gone, but he could see how much regret and remorse was in his husband’s heart, and he knew that Cas wanted nothing more than to make amends. Thinking, even for that brief second, that Cas wanted to leave him made him realise just how much he still loved and wanted him. Castiel’s eyebrow quirked up in surprise. 

“You said and did some shitty things, yeah. I did too. And I regret that like I know you do. You were so vulnerable, Cas. Before he came along, you were the lowest I’ve ever seen you. Everything we’d gone through. My dad… my running out on you… your mom… Adam and Alastair. And like you said, let’s not forget that I’ve hurt you too. This… this dysfunction in our marriage isn’t completely one sided. You were strong for me for so long. You had to be because I was such a mess. Chuck just… he took advantage of your tiredness.” Dean sighed, and Cas smiled back at him, grateful for his forgiving nature. 

“Thanks.” Cas whispered. “I know what you’re trying to do. But it wasn’t all him. It can’t have been. I mean, I _am_ his son—”

“—Don’t. Don’t talk like that, please.” Dean interjected. It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but his husband hadn’t shown these tendencies before. He just couldn’t bear to think that _his_ Cas was capable of all this, even if it was true. It was easier to lay the blame on Chuck himself. Certainly less painful. He watched his husband with careful eyes, and Cas just eyed him cautiously. 

“I still need to earn you back. I’m not going anywhere. I wouldn’t do that. But maybe… maybe we should take things slow. Learn to be there for each other again, before we rush into anything physical.” Cas suggested. 

Dean paused, breathing deeply as he considered it. It wasn’t like they’d been intimate since the first night they’d come to London, and even then — not that he hadn’t enjoyed it — he’d used it as a distraction technique. Before that, he preferred not to think. But the idea wasn’t a bad one. He needed Cas back as his friend first, and maybe this would provide him with the space he’d been looking for when he’d considered leaving and staying with Sam. It was the emotional side of them that had been damaged. Maybe breaking up for now could fix it. Maybe they needed it. 

“So, we stay married, but strictly speaking we go back to being friends until we’re ready for more?” He asked. 

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it, yeah.” Cas shrugged. “Before this… our relationship has always come naturally.” 

“If it will help us get back to where we were before, Cas, then I’m in. I’m willing to try.” 

“Me too.” Castiel smiled, but it was only half a smile, and Dean could hardly return it. This was probably for the best. Probably the right thing, for now, but it felt wrong then, when he pulled back the covers and climbed out of their bed. 

He tried to ignore the catch in his throat as he spoke. “I’ll stay with Sam.” He said, and Castiel nodded gently. 

 

*

 

It was hardly like money was an issue for them, but Dean was grateful that he had Sam to call upon considering it was the middle of the night. Naomi knew things weren’t going well in their marriage, but she’d been right in suggesting that their issues were kept away from the press. They didn’t need the media nosing into this and dragging it all out, leading to speculation and rumours that would only cause them more pain. So he was glad that he didn’t have to go and rent another room while in his pyjamas in the middle of the night. 

Considering the time, Sam opened the door fairly quickly when Dean rapped his knuckles on the wood. The younger Winchester’s eyes softened when he took in the sight of his brother’s crestfallen face and tear-lined cheeks. Sam opened his arms, and Dean fell into them, sobs choking his throat as his pain seeped out of him. 

The lawyer didn’t talk for a long time, not even when Dean pulled away and climbed on top of his half-made bed, making good use of the supplied tissues. He waited, just being there, until his brother was ready to open his mouth. 

“We broke up.” Dean said, and the pain returned so strongly that a fresh tear fell from his eye. 

Sam sighed, rubbing his cheek with the ball of his hand in frustration or upset or disbelief. But he didn’t really know what to say any more than Dean did.  “It’s… that’s…” He stumbled, but the eloquent lawyer couldn’t continue. 

“But I’m not coming home with you.” Dean added, and Sam furrowed his brow. 

“Why wouldn’t you?” 

“I’ll stay with you, while you’re here.” Dean began. “But after you’ve gone, I’m staying in the UK. I need to keep an eye on him.” 

“Dean that’s… it’s not a good idea. If you’ve split up—”

“—Just because we’ve split up doesn’t mean I’ve given up on him.” Dean insisted. 

“He looked like he’d given up on himself.” Sam commented. 

“Exactly.” Dean whispered. “I need to make sure he’s alright.” 

“If you’re not going to be his husband any more, then that isn’t your job, Dean.” 

“He wants to try too.” Dean sighed. “We both _want_ to get back together. That’s our aim.” 

“Dean, I know you both still love each other. And I can see how much he regrets it and how guilty he is.” Sam started, sighing. “But it doesn’t change the fact that it happened, and you have to keep that at the forefront in your mind before you even think about forgiving him. He’s obviously not well at the moment, all that stuff he was saying about associating you with painful things? He definitely needs to go back to a psychiatrist. And if I’m being honest, I think you might too. Your relationship… it’s become unhealthy. If you two want to be truly happy you’re going to have to work hard.”

Dean nodded. “I know you’re looking out for me, and yeah, he did and said some truly shit things to me. But you are right. I think I do need help, too. Because I wasn’t an angel either. I let him think I’d cheated on him, just to get some attention. He’d start the fights but I’d rise to them. I went behind his back to catch Chuck out rather than just talk to him. I lied to him, I yelled at him… I… I could have handled it all better. It’s not just him who needs forgiveness and help.” 

Sam sighed again, relenting to his brother’s reckless determination. “Well maybe you can handle it better from this point on. And you know I’m here for the next two weeks anyway, but after that, Dean, if you can’t…? I need you to promise me you’ll call.” 

“I’ll call, Sammy.” Dean had promised. 

 

*

 

Dean had slept well after that, only waking past noon when Sam decided his brother really should eat something. They were midway through eating room service sandwiches together when the door knocked, and Sam opened it to allow a concerned looking Naomi through the doors. She glanced awkwardly around before she spoke, and it was painfully obvious that Dean had spent the night here from how his clothes were in a crumpled pile on the floor. 

“After last night, did you get a chance to talk?” She enquired, when Sam had given them privacy. Dean nodded. “Are things better? Your marriage… you and Castiel, are you alright?” 

Dean sucked in a breath before he answered. “Naomi… for now? There is no me and Castiel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update Thursday... keep on hanging in there everyone!


	35. It's Dark Inside

It's where my demons hide,

Don't get too close,

**It's dark inside.**

 

It was obvious that Naomi wanted to talk. She’d been antsy all day, shooting him concerned looks and all but tiptoeing around him this morning. Then, when she’d caught up with him at work that afternoon, he’d caught her talking in a hushed, hurried voice to Kevin outside the recording room when he’d been working on sound effects, as he’d left to use the bathroom. She’d looked guilty then, and he’d known that as soon as they got back to the hotel, she was going to commence her inquisition.   
 ****

He hadn’t been wrong.

He dropped heavily onto the couch, weary from his poor night’s rest and emotionally exhausted from the last few months. If he was honest, he just wanted to sleep. It felt like he could hibernate for the entire winter, he was so damn tired. But no such luck. Naomi followed him into the living area and took a seat on the lilac couch to his right, wary eyes boring into him until he finally lifted his gaze to reluctantly meet them, a warning in his own. 

She cleared her throat, and he knew it was about to begin. As she began to speak, he was almost touched by how difficult it seemed to be for her to keep her voice steady.  “Dean told me you broke up.”

Broke up? What? Is that what he thought had happened? Is that what he _wanted_ to happen? Cas had been the one to suggest they alter their relationship for a while, but he hadn’t wanted to separate. He’d just thought they could do with a little space. Dean must have decided that for himself. His stomach dropped and his heart went haywire, bouncing angrily inside a chest that forever seemed to hurt. He could barely breathe, let alone speak, and her eyes went wide as his hands began to shake and his bottom lip started to wobble. 

“Castiel, are you alright?” Naomi asked a few moments later, but it could have been years for all he knew. Each second was starting to feel like a eternity spent in hell. 

“Of course I’m not alright.” He snapped out of nowhere. “I’ve lost my husband.” 

He knew he was crying, but he didn’t care. He was so wrapped up in his pain that he hardly even noticed when Naomi moved to sit next to him and draped her arm over his shoulder. He huddled into her for the contact, but she felt so small and unlike Dean that it did nothing to alleviate his agony. 

He only had himself to blame. 

If he’d just handled things better, if he’d been more honest. If he’d been honest before — however selfish — in therapy whenever Nygard had mentioned his husband, maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess. Maybe he could have talked it all through, resolved those stupid issues left over from years ago. Maybe he wouldn’t have held things inside, and maybe Chuck wouldn’t have had anything to grab hold of. 

But now he’d lost him. He’d thought that Dean wanted to try, that he and Dean still had a chance, that Dean still loved him, hadn’t wanted him to leave. Unless he’d changed his mind. Unless he’d spoken to Sam and the lawyer had convinced him to get away. _Broke up_ sounded so final. His head spun with the fact, and he really wasn’t sure he wouldn’t vomit where he felt so nauseated at the thought. 

“I could have done so much more to help you both.” Naomi whispered while his mind continued to self-destruct. “I should have listened to Dean. We both should have listened to Dean.” 

“This is my fault, not yours Naomi.” Cas cried, but she only sighed. 

“But I should have recognised what was going on and stopped you. I should have helped you.” She said, and it was only then that he realised how much guilt she carried around too. 

“I shouldn’t have alienated my own husband for a man I’d just met. I shouldn’t have betrayed him. I should have stood by him, like he’d have done for me.” 

“It’s my job to keep threats out of your life, Castiel, and I failed.” 

“|’m a threat to myself.” Cas said bitterly. “I— fuck. I can’t… I can’t do it. I can’t accept it. I need to talk to him. I need to get on my knees and beg for another chance.” 

“Not now.” Naomi insisted, gripping his shoulder firmer as he tried to stand. “He needs space, let him take some time.” 

“I can’t.” Castiel complained, pushing away from her and getting to his feet. “I can’t, I need him. I need to see him. I need to make sure he’s alright.” 

“And what if you find out that he’s not?” Naomi enquired, clambering off of the couch to meet him. “He’s got his brother with him, you need to leave him to heal.” 

“You don’t understand, Naomi, I _need_ to see him. I don’t want to break up. I don’t want that. It’s not… it’s not what we talked about. He didn’t tell me he wanted that. So why… why is he saying it? I can still save us.” 

“Does it matter what you call it? Castiel, he obviously needs some time and some space. You need to give it to him, and you need to respect whatever decision he makes. If he wants to go home, you need to let him. Maybe you’re right and you can still save your marriage, but not like this. You’ll only anger him if you fail to leave him alone. He needs his own time to process everything.” Naomi begged, but her efforts were worthless. 

Castiel shook his head, but turned to shoot her an apologetic look as he backed out of the door. 

 

*

 

“Dean?!” The voice called as the door was knocked frantically. Sam frowned, standing and hurrying to the door, grateful that Dean was showering. Castiel sounded upset and unstable, and he couldn’t risk Dean seeing him, not like this. His brother needed space and time to move on. He intended to find out why the actor was trying to deny that space. 

He wrenched the door open, but rather than allow him into the room, Sam stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind him, thankful that he had a keycard in his wallet. At the sight of him, the actor’s face fell, and he moved as if to try and get passed him anyway. But Sam was quicker, and caught Castiel’s shoulder, pushing, forcing him to take a step back. 

The man looked a mess. It wasn’t like Sam couldn’t see that. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand that Cas was clearly going through something too, but he just hadn’t forgiven him yet for the way he’d treated his brother. He was angry with the way it had all gone down. Angry that Dean had once again let things get bad enough to break him but not bothered to reach out until the last second. Angry that Cas had been the one to hurt him. Angry that he’d trusted Cas to look after him.

“Please.” Castiel begged, and the sheer desperation in his voice was enough that Sam let go of his shoulder in surprise. The actor sounded so damned sad. “Please, Sam.” 

“Leave him alone, Cas.” Sam said firmly, but Castiel shook his head before the rest of his body followed suit and he began to tremor on the spot. His eyes were jumping left, right, and centre, and Sam furrowed his brow, because clearly the man in front of him was unwell. 

“I can’t.” Castiel said. “I can’t. I can’t.” 

“Cas, don’t make this harder than it already is. You have to. He needs space.” 

“I can’t.” Cas repeated, and Sam started to really worry, then, because the movie star backed up a few paces and let his back slide down the wall until he was on his ass. He was breathing erratically, shallow, quick breaths, and he chewed his lip with concern. He knew he had to look out for his brother, here, but he had to make sure someone was around to look out for his friend. He could see why Dean was so worried about him. 

“Cas, calm down.” 

“He’s left me.” Cas whispered. “He’s left me and I can’t… I can’t.” 

“He had every reason to leave you after how you were, Cas.” Sam snapped. He was worried, but he was still furious with the man in front of him. “He put up with your shit for far longer than most people would have.” He paused to sigh, but he regretted snapping when Cas started to shake even harder. He was hardly in the right frame of mind for a real conversation, so he sucked in a breath. “But Cas, he’s still here. Yeah, right now he’s left you. But he’s not going anywhere. He still loves you, for some reason, and he wants to try. But he won’t want to if you don’t give him what he needs.” 

It seemed Castiel had nothing to say to that. His eyes streamed tears like it was all they were made to do, and he stared forward, unseeing. But Sam could see the distress behind the gaze, could see how the movie star was crying out for help. Sam was angry, wanted nothing more than to go back to his brother and help him through this, but although he was furious with Castiel right now, the man was his friend, and had been for a long time. 

Sam groaned, bending over and taking Castiel’s hand, yanking the surprised actor back to his feet. Cas stared at him nervously, his mind clearly still rushing with unstable and frantic thoughts. Sam sucked in a deep breath, releasing Castiel’s hand and taking his arm instead, and he pulled as he began to walk hurriedly back down the corridor. 

The elevator door pinged before they reached it, and he was unsurprised to see Kevin stepping out   with confusion and alarm in his features. But without hesitation, the young man hastened towards them and took Castiel’s other side, helping Sam get him into the elevator despite Cas’s muddled, unwilling steps. 

Between the two of them, they ushered the movie star back into his suite with relatively little effort. Somewhere in the elevator’s ascent Castiel seemed to have given up his fight, and his feet became more compliant with their encouraging tugs. 

Naomi was waiting for them as they entered, chewing down on her lip, frantic hands coursing through her hair. She locked eyes with Sam as they crossed the threshold, and he could see she knew how badly she’d messed up. Sam knew her priority was always going to be Castiel, that was just her job, but he couldn’t help but harbour some resentment towards her, for allowing things to get this bad. But then, he supposed, Dean could be very secretive and difficult to read. Perhaps he just hadn’t communicated well. After all, he’d never figured out what Dean had been through in his youth until years after the events. And even then it was only because he was told. So because he could hardly blame her for failings the same as his own, he nodded at her, and some of the worry cleared from her eyes. 

He let go of Castiel as soon as the door was shut and bolted behind them, Kevin standing guard. The actor continued to shake on the spot, overwhelmed by his regret and panic and pain. If Sam was less angry, he might actually feel sorry for the guy, he looked so damaged. 

But Naomi spoke up then, drawing Sam’s gaze away from Castiel and back in her direction. “Thank you for bringing him back.” She said softly. “I know how… upset you must be with us all.” 

Sam frowned, trying to steady his own breathing where his irritation and distress were fighting for sole control of his thoughts. “I’m not saying you didn’t let my brother down, because you did. But in the past I’ve let him down too. I know what he gets like when he’s hurting, and how difficult he becomes to read.” He turned then, looking back at Castiel. “But he knows Dean better than anyone. It’s him I’ll have a hard time forgiving.” 

Naomi’s eyes darted worriedly back to the actor, then, and Cas’s hands came up to clutch at his face as if in disbelief. A strange, pained noise escaped his lips, before his eyes shot quickly to fall on Sam’s. “I need to see Dean.” 

“I’ve already told you no.” Sam said firmly, at the same time that Naomi spoke. 

“It’s not a good idea, Castiel.” 

“I _need_ Dean.” Cas repeated, and the catch in his voice was loud enough that they all could hear it. 

“No.” Sam said again, a little louder this time, but Cas stumbled, turning back towards the door as if he was going to try and make a second escape. At that, Kevin stepped in, closing the distance between himself and the movie star and holding his arm firmly, keeping him in place. 

“I need Dean. Please. Please.” Cas began to beg, and Sam had to look away where he felt so conflicted. Castiel had obviously completely lost sight of what was going on. He was almost maniacal in the way his eyes were darting around, limbs shuddering, lips churning out the same words on repeat; _Dean, please._ Sam couldn’t help but feel like he needed to be there for his friend despite feeling so damn angry at him, too. Cas continued to beg while Sam stared at the floor in disbelief, until eventually he turned and stormed into another room, pulling out his cell phone and dialling his wife’s number. She was always the level headed one, she’d know what to do. 

“Hi honey.” Jessica’s sweet, calm voice made him feel instantly safer. “How is it going?”

He took a deep breath before he answered. “Hey.” He whispered. “I hope you and Lily are ok. Here, it’s… it might be worse than I imagined.” 

“What’s happened?” Jess breathed. 

“They broke up last night.” He informed her, not having had a chance to call before now. “Temporarily, apparently. Dean… he’s the worst he’s been in years but it feels like he knows better how to pull himself through now. Cas… I don’t know what to do with him. He’s completely distraught. He’s worse than the first time Dean left. Worse than when his mom died. He’s just shaking and crying and repeating himself. Like, I know I’m here for Dean, but I can’t help but feel sorry for him too. I just… how do I… what the hell do I do?” 

It was hard not to have some sort of meltdown of his own while his wife talked him through her suggestions. Considering he was on the outside of this situation, his own emotions were running wild. He couldn’t imagine what pain was going through the minds of Dean and Castiel. Jess too, all the way at home across the Atlantic, sounded affected. His calm wife, with her nurse’s patience. It was horrible to see two men he cared for in such a state. He talked Jess through exactly how Cas had been acting, everything that Dean had said and everything Cas had replied with, and between them they came to a temporary solution. 

As he returned to the living area, his eyes fell on Castiel, who’d bundled himself up into a corner of the couch, rocking gently as he cried into his knees. Yeah, the movie star had been a complete asshole and he’d definitely hurt his brother, badly, but there were obviously some underlying mental health issues here. The man was a mess. Naomi was sitting next to him, a hand on his arm, whispering soothing words that had no real meaning behind them, and she looked up as Sam reentered the room, catching his eye. 

Sam walked toward them both wordlessly, scanning the remainder of the room, nodding at Kevin who stood guard on the door. Before he reached Castiel he paused, and shot a hesitant look at Naomi. But she clearly had as little of an idea what to do with the actor as he had before he’d spoken to Jess, and she shrugged as her permission for him to try. Anything that would help him, he supposed. 

“Cas?” Sam whispered, getting to his knees in front of the couch. Even kneeling his head was almost at the same height as Castiel’s, he was so tall. Cas shook a little harder at the sound of his own name, but he barely reacted otherwise. “Cas, come on, you need to calm down.” He tried. 

Not that asking someone to calm down had ever worked, even a little bit, but he had to try. Castiel just ignored him, so he sighed, rubbing his cheek with his fingers as he started again. “Cas, what do you want?” He asked, knowing full well what his answer would be if he got one. 

“Dean.” Cas mumbled in response, shifting his chin the smallest amount so that he could lock their eyes over his kneecaps. 

Sam sucked in a slow breath. “You told him you needed some space. He needs some space…” He started irritably, but Castiel began to close up again, so he changed tact. “You can see Dean when you’re better.” He said. “But right now… Cas we both know I’m mad at you, but even I can see you’re not well. So please, let me help you.” 

Again, Castiel said nothing, but he did keep his eyes focused on Sam’s even if he did continue to rock back and forth like he’d truly had a breakdown. Sam wouldn’t be surprised if he had. And after all, he had every intention of calling in a shrink to sit with him as soon as Cas was calm enough to suggest it. 

“I think you need to go to bed, get some rest, and then when your head is a bit clearer, you can think about what you want to do.” Sam went on. “But I’m not going to let you see Dean while you’re like this. It won’t help either of you.” 

“I can’t sleep.” Cas said then, fresh tears spilling over. “I haven’t been sleeping.” 

Sam was hardly surprised when he looked at the deep purple half moons under the actor’s puffy, glazed eyes. “No, I know.” He said. He turned his body so that he was addressing Naomi as well before he spoke again. “I talked to Jess, Cas, and she thinks you should take one of Dean’s flight pills. It will help you sleep, and then you might feel better.” 

Cas opened his mouth as if to protest, then, but Sam continued before he could decline. “If you take the pill and get some rest, Cas, then maybe, _maybe_ , I’ll let you talk to Dean tomorrow. But only if Dean wants to.”

The actor shot a a cautious glance at Naomi while he considered the offer, but his manager had already been handed the strip of pills from her purse that Kevin had just retrieved. Cas opened his palm as if in acceptance, and Naomi smiled sadly at him as she popped a pill into it. The movie star pulled it back, inspecting the small white tablet carefully. 

“Have I lost my mind?” He asked, but Sam didn’t know what to say to that. The silence was enough of an answer, and Castiel took the glass of water Kevin was offering, swallowing the pill down in one. 

 

*

 

Naomi had stayed in Castiel’s bedroom with him until he'd fallen asleep, and as soon as she was out, she’d called a psychiatrist and arranged for her attendance from the following morning. Sam watched her from the couch opposite, feeling entirely uncomfortable about how long he'd left his brother and the situation as a whole. He was still so angry, with all of them, if he was completely honest, but it was obvious that Cas had issues that hadn't been resolved, and while he was furious, he knew he would have acted a little crazy if he put himself in the actor’s shoes. Perhaps not crazy enough to disregard his own wife, but then again, Jess had enough strength to slap the sense into him before it would ever reach that point. He knew Dean hadn't helped himself in the way he’d handled everything. 

Now, though, Naomi had just finished filling him in on the arrangements for tomorrow. He was glad that Cas would get help, they'd been close friends for years after all, and even though he was mad right now, he hoped they could somehow fix this. He liked having the man as his brother-in-law when things were going well. He hoped Cas would be able to work through his issues enough to try. 

“Thank you for helping me with him.” Naomi sighed, clearly unsure where to begin. Her gratitude was almost annoying, but Sam knew he had to be bigger than that. His brother had a great deal of respect for the usually confident woman in front of him, even if right now she seemed useless. She looked as lost as either of them, and Sam knew that Chuck had succeeded in tearing them all apart, Naomi included. 

“He's been my friend for more or less my entire life.” Sam said as his answer, and she smiled softly. 

“He cares a lot for you.” She said. “I know that you blame him for this. You have every right to, and I can't excuse his behaviour either. Even he knows what he's done. But he was targeted in his most vulnerable moments. And Chuck? He even had me convinced. I let your brother down just as badly.” 

“I'm not saying you didn't.” Sam replied standoffishly. “But he insists you tried to listen, harder than Castiel anyway.” 

Naomi nodded, acceptance in her expression. “I'm not sure why Castiel refused to listen to Dean, but he's more insecure than you can imagine. He was lead easily astray. I don't think he trusts his own judgement.” 

“But why did he trust Chuck’s?” 

“Because Chuck was an older and more dominating father figure, I suppose. Insecure or not, Castiel has always seemed to be, for want of a better word, the boss, in his marriage. Probably because Dean has always been even more damaged than he was. Until recently, anyway. Their dynamic was changing as Dean got better, and it's not that I think Castiel had a problem with that, but it must have shaken things up enough that it left him uncertain of where he stood. I've thought a lot about it, and I think that Chuck chose to strike then because he had predicted that shift. It had all been made public, the news about Adam and then Alistair, and in the view of the media it was obvious that Dean was becoming a stronger character. To the point that his strength rivalled Castiel’s, and possibly overtook it.” 

“So you're saying that Cas felt threatened by Dean’s healing, because he hadn't healed himself?” Sam asked, more pissed off than ten minutes ago. 

“Not threatened, no, but maybe unsettled by it. Neither knew where they stood because their roles reversed suddenly, and Castiel became the cared for instead of the caregiver. I think that’s what Chuck predicted, and that's what he latched onto, that's what he used to turn him.” 

Sam breathed out an irritable breath, but he couldn't deny that her theory made sense. He shot a glance towards the door to Castiel’s bedroom, and ran his hands over his face before pulling up to his feet. “Just, keep an eye on him.” Sam requested. “He's going to have to work, hard, before I even think about forgiving him. Before Dean will forgive him. But…well. If the man who married my brother is in there somewhere then there’s a chance, I guess.” 

“He's lost.” Naomi agreed. “And he's lost everything in the process. But I'll help him. I'll do my best, anyway. And as for Dean, he knows I'm here if he needs anything at all.” 

Sam let a soft smile ghost over his lips, then, but he nodded once before leaving the suite.

 

*

 

“Hey, where ‘ya been?” Dean smiled as Sam reentered. Man was he starving, and his brother had been gone so long he must have gone somewhere interesting to pick up dinner. But his eyes dropped to Sammy’s hands, an onset of panic rising in his gut when he saw them empty. If he hadn't been collecting food for them, then where the hell had he been? He wasn't so stupid as to talk to Cas on his own, surely? His brother must have seen the way his face had fallen, because Sam held his hands up like he was already trying to calm him down, a sad expression behind his eyes. Oh god, what the hell was wrong with Cas? That's what this had to be about, surely? 

“I've been upstairs.” Sam said quietly, edging closer and backing Dean into a corner. His lungs tightened at the admission, and he chewed his lip, stomach forgotten. What more did Sam want? He'd taken his advice and let his husband break up with him, agreed to this suggestion of space that everyone insisted would help him to accept the things that had happened and serve as punishment for Castiel’s crimes. 

“C-Cas?” Dean stuttered his husband’s name, scared of what his brother was about to say. Sam looked so guilty, like he was about to impart the worst news Dean would ever hear. Holy fuck, what if Cas had done something stupid? Something really, _really_ stupid. 

“Yeah.” Sam sighed, fidgeting with his fingers. “He came looking for you, but he was in a really bad way. I told him no.”

Dean stared at his brother with wide eyes, praying that his husband was ok. What did Sammy mean by _a bad way_? 

“Look, he's ok, but…” Sam started, clearly unsure how to impart his news. 

Dean’s heart was in his mouth. “But?” He demanded. 

“He's not… I don't know, he's not well, Dean. He was scaring me—”

“—What do you mean he was scaring you?!” Dean exclaimed. 

“I don't want you to worry, because he's alright and Naomi’s up there keeping an eye on him—”

“—Sam, I swear to god, what the hell happened to my husband?” The younger brother looked shocked by his outburst, and it was only then that Dean realised how loudly he'd yelled his question.

“He… he was shaking, begging to see you, but it was like he wasn't taking anything in. He couldn't focus on anyone or anything.” Sam answered.

“Why? He was ok last night. Why now?” 

“Dean, I don't think…” Sam tried, but the look in Dean’s eyes demanded the truth, and the younger man sighed. “He said he didn't realise you wanted to break up.” 

“What?” Dean asked in disbelief. “It was his idea!” He paused, and Sam had nothing to say to fill the awkward silence. “What did you do with him? Is he still in this state?”

“No.” Sam admitted, breathing deeply. “We… uh… we gave him one of your flight pills.” 

“You drugged him? Rather than get me to talk to him? I could have calmed him down.” 

“Hey, this isn't on me.” Sam replied irritably. “He took the pill willingly and for his own good. He hasn't been sleeping and he was worse than you get when you have an attack, Dean. And you need space from him, you need to stay away.” 

“Maybe what I need is to know that my husband isn't having a breakdown without me.” Dean snapped. 

“Maybe you need to decide whether or not he is your husband first.” Sam retorted, but he regretted rising to it as soon as his mouth was shut. Dean’s eyes had already welled with tears, and he wished he could make it better. “I'm sorry.” He hurried, and Dean just nodded. 

“I'm not the one who needs to make their mind up, Sam. I'm hurting like hell accepting that I need space away from him. It's agony, because despite everything I love him so fucking much. Sammy, I  need to talk to him, I need you to understand that. If he's changing his mind left, right and centre… I need to know where I stand. Maybe he does too. If I can calm him down… there's no point in having space to think if he can't think.” 

“Why don't we talk about it tomorrow? We can get some room service, get a couple of drinks, and then tomorrow when Cas is feeling better, maybe you could call him.” 

“Sammy.” Dean sighed. “You're not getting it. It's Cas. He's not going to feel better until we've cleared the air. I can't have him getting into a state again. I need to see him.” 

“Dean, he's asleep, what are you going to achieve if you wake him up?” 

“I’m not going to wake him up.” Dean insisted. “I'm just going to be there when he wakes.” 

“So what, you'll stay up all night waiting for him to wake up?” 

Dean rolled his eyes. “You're saying you wouldn't do the same for Jess?” 

“Jess has never hurt me like he’s hurt you.” Sam pointed out. 

“Yes, but neither of you were abused. Neither of you have been through even half the shit that we have.” Dean snapped, but soon regretted it. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. But it's different, Sam. It is. Look, if you can't understand it that's fine, but I need to go.” 

Sam sucked in a slow breath, staring at his brother in a showdown, but eventually he caved and nodded. “Fine.” He sighed. “But I’m coming back up there with you.” 

 

*

 

It was light again by the time that Dean stirred awake. He lifted his head, wincing at a pain in his neck, stiff from where he'd been asleep hunched over onto Castiel’s pillow. He turned towards the sound that had woken him, eyes taking in the sight of a middle aged lady with greying dark hair, glasses perched precariously close to the edge of her nose. The corners of her lips raised in half a smile as she let herself into the room and edged closer, and Dean glanced down at the ID badge hanging from her neck, shooting her a nod when he realised she was the shrink Naomi had called in to oversee his husband today. 

The doctor, Wingrove, took to a chair somewhere behind him, and Dean was so acutely aware of her gaze on him as his eyes flitted back to the sight of his sleeping husband. He chewed his lip again out of worry, ignoring the sore protest the damaged skin gave off, and his hand darted out as it had earlier in the night to move that rogue strand of hair that was just falling in front of Castiel's eyes.

How had things come to this? Dean wondered. His luck must be the worst on record, or perhaps this was a case of a self fulfilling prophecy that he simply couldn't shift. Perhaps his fear that everyone would betray him like his own father had was being made true by his own paranoia. He let himself consider it all, his pain, his marriage, the joy it had once given him. He knew how good things had been, and he hoped that if Castiel was willing to work, things could be that good again. 

He watched his husband sleep for about another hour before Castiel began slowly to wake, and his hand went out to cup Cas’s cheek and keep his husband’s eyes in his direction as they opened. Dean had thought his heart was already broken, but there was nothing quite so awful as seeing the smile on Castiel’s lips as he caught sight of him, and how quickly it faded when he remembered how things were. Dean withdrew his hand, albeit reluctantly. 

“Hey.” He whispered to detract from his pain. The psychiatrist moved her chair a little closer, making a noise that took Castiel’s attention and left him staring, wide eyed and alarmed. “Hey, it's ok. It's alright. She's a doctor.” 

Castiel’s eyes darted quickly back to him, and Dean felt his chest tighten at the intensity of his husband’s stare. He could see what Sammy meant. Cas was in there, but his mind was obviously a mess. “Don’t worry about her.” Dean soothed. “She’s here to help you.” 

At that, Castiel’s eyes narrowed, but he scanned over the doctor once more before locking his gaze onto Dean’s once again, and he nodded once as his acceptance. Dean’s heart pounded as he stared into his husband’s exposed, shredded soul. The pain was too much to bear, but he had to try and get him to talk. 

“Sam said you were asking for me last night.” Dean began, completely unsure how to broach a topic that had broken him so badly. Castiel looked just as damaged, and he nodded once again. “He was worried about you. He and Naomi both were worried about you.” 

A flash of thoughtful consideration shone through Castiel’s expression, but when his eyes refocused onto Dean’s, it was gone, and as if he couldn’t speak, he nodded again. Dean sucked in a breath. This was hurting him to no end, and he knew it was going to get a bit worse but he made the decision, then, to be blunt. 

“They told me you didn’t want to break up.” He said. 

At that, Castiel’s eyes widened, and his breath caught in his lungs. “I don’t.” He admitted. 

Dean sighed. “Cas, it was your idea."

“No, it wasn’t.” Cas protested suddenly, and Dean wasn’t sure if he was more concerned about the denial or the way his limbs began to gently tremor. 

“You said we needed time.” Dean reminded him, resisting an urge to reach out and touch him just for the comfort. Touch wouldn’t do either of them any good at the moment. 

“I said we should take things slow.” Cas argued. “I didn’t say I wanted you to leave me.” 

“But you agreed when I said we were going back to being friends, Cas. How else am I supposed to take that?” 

Castiel pulled in a shaking breath while Dean chewed his lip, alarmed, upset, and entirely confused. “I just thought you needed space. I didn’t want you to break up with me. I didn’t…I-I did- I didn’t want —” Cas stammered, hands pulling at his own face. 

“—Hey, hey, calm down.” Dean interrupted, hand reaching out to pull Castiel’s fingers from clawing at his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He whispered, and Cas opened his eyes to meet Dean’s again. “I think you’re getting too caught up in the details. Cas, I don’t care what we call it, what I said? I haven’t changed my mind. I’m willing to try. I didn’t mean we’d broke up like I was going to go off dating other people, like we were over. This is, or at least I hope it is, a temporary thing. Just while we get our heads together, ok? If you’d rather I say we’re, I don’t know, on a break or spending some time apart then I will. But I need this, and you do too. Just for a little while.” 

Cas took a few slow breaths, tears now streaming from his eyes, but some of the panic cleared as he listened to what Dean was saying. He nodded in acceptance. “Ok.” He agreed. 

“Ok.” Dean forced a smile onto his lips. “We need this, just for some space to think. Sam’s here for the next two weeks, and I’m going to stay with him until he goes. Don’t… don’t try and find me, ok? We’re changing rooms. But Naomi will be here, looking after you, and this doctor will help you. I need you to try and get yourself better before we can work out what to do, because I know you’re not thinking straight right now.” 

Castiel nodded, still crying, but the shaking had stopped at least. “I’ll try.” 

“When Sam goes home, Cas, I’ll come back up and see you. I don’t… right now, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t want to go home without you, but… uh. I’m finding it all really hard. I want to try, Cas, but I don’t know if I’ve got the strength right now. It just… it might take a little longer.”

“I’m sorry.” Castiel said simply, and the sentiment was right from the bottom of his heart. It hit Dean like a ton of bricks, and he could see how deeply his husband meant it. 

“I know you are.” Dean whispered, trying desperately not to let those tears well up in his eyes. He let his eyes linger on Castiel for a moment longer before he ripped them away and stood. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.” 

Dean turned, and with purposeful strides he walked out of the door, letting it fall closed behind him. His legs locked in place, and then the shaking began. From the other side of the room, Naomi pulled to her feet and hurried over to him, wrapping her arms as high up around his back as she could reach as his head fell to her shoulder, and he broke down in sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoever suggested Demons as a song in the comments knows me too well, clearly. 
> 
> See you Monday!


	36. Don't Wanna Wake Up One Day Wishing That We'd Done More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things are going to start actually moving again now, time wise and plot wise. I just hope it does them justice!

**Don't wanna wake up one day wishing that we'd done more** ,

I wanna live fast and never look back, that's what we're here for,

Don't wanna wake up one day wondering where'd it all go,

Cause we'll be home before we know.

 

Holy fuck was his heart pounding. Dean stood in front of the door, limbs shaking slightly with nerves. All he had to do was lift his fist and rap on the wood. He took a deep breath in, and if Sammy hadn’t already noticed how much he was freaking out then he would have then. His brother lifted his hand to his arm and gave a gentle squeeze. 

“You sure about this, Dean? The offer still stands, you can still come home with me.” 

But Dean shook his head, the bag of clothes on his shoulder feeling suddenly heavier. “I need to see him, Sam. I can’t make that decision without seeing him.” 

“Doesn’t mean you have to see him today.” Sam muttered. “If you came home, I mean with your money it hardly has to be permanent.” 

“I _want_ to see him.” Dean said, and although his heart did a little flip in panic, it was true. He was still mad at Castiel, still hadn’t forgiven him and probably wouldn’t for some time. But the man was his husband, and he did still love him. Enough that he’d missed him these past two weeks. Sam would insist the space had done him good, and to some extent he was probably right. He felt less fragile again now, having talked to Dr Nygard a few times had helped him to work through some of the damage to his mental health, but he’d spent a large portion of his time worrying about Castiel. Now that he was feeling a little better he hoped that he could be near him again without so much pain, to put his worries to rest. 

So, Dean lifted his hand, and knocked on the door. 

“Hey.” Kevin grinned as he answered. Dean smiled back at him, and the security chief stepped aside to allow the Winchester brothers inside. 

Naomi was perched at the dining table, and looked curiously up, eyes widening in surprise as she took in the sight of their visitors. She stood, smiling broadly, and closed the distance between herself and Dean, wrapping him in a tight hug before quickly releasing him. 

“I thought you would come a lot later.” She said, shooting a nod at Sam who smiled hesitantly back at her.

“I was eager to check in, I guess.” Dean admitted. He didn’t tell her that they’d purposefully come early so that he had time to book a flight home if he felt he wanted to following this visit. He dropped his bag, shaking the thought away as he did so. 

“He’s, uh, he’s in therapy right now, actually.” Naomi said then, and Dean inhaled quickly in surprise. “He might be another thirty minutes or so.” She explained. 

Right, ok, he could wait that long. At least it meant Cas was trying to get better if he’d kept on seeing someone. At least it meant he had hope and conviction and determination. There was no doubt that Castiel had needed help two weeks ago. Hopefully him reaching out and grasping it was a sign that he hadn’t completely given up like Dean had worried he might.

As if reading his mind, Naomi smiled. “He’s really been trying, Dean.” She said. “That day after you left? Dr Wingrove didn’t leave until long after it was dark. And she’s been here every day since. You’ll see the difference in him. He wants to get better now, and he talks more, completely honestly. He’s doing well.” 

Dean smiled back, but while he was pleased that his husband was making progress, a new worry shot to the forefront of his mind, an inadequacy that Nygard would certainly scold him for. “I’m glad that he’s getting better, but… what if…” He stumbled. “What if me seeing him sets him back? Is he better off without me?” 

“Don’t think like that.” Naomi said then, and her tone was unmistakable. She definitely disagreed with his dark thoughts. “He’s been waiting for today. He wants to see you.” 

“Are you sure?” He asked. And she just rolled her eyes with a pointed look like she thought he was being stupid. He probably was. He breathed heavily, shooting Sam a nervous look while Naomi offered them drinks. They accepted, and a few minutes later they were sitting, sipping their cappuccinos and just waiting for the session to finish. 

He was so fucking nervous. Even despite Naomi’s insistence that Cas was doing well, he needed to see it to prove it to himself so that he could lay his worries to rest. And what would it mean if he was doing well? Was he doing well because he so badly wanted Dean back? Or was it because he _was_ better off without him, whatever Naomi said? 

“Well, good luck later. Remember what I said, but if you need anything at all, you’ve got my number.” An unfamiliar woman’s voice said suddenly from down the hall, and Dean’s heart skipped as he realised that this might be it, the moment he finally got to see his husband again. The door to Castiel’s bedroom swung closed, and seconds later, two figures appeared at the junction of the corridor and the living area. Dr Wingrove nodded in their direction with a cursory smile, but Dean’s eyes had completely bypassed her, locked in an intense stare with his surprised husband’s. 

As Wingrove let herself out, Cas dragged his eyes quickly in her direction, holding a hand up to say goodbye, but his gaze wasn’t away from Dean’s for long. His lips lifted up in an almost smile, and he looked genuinely pleased to see him, if a bit shocked. 

“I wasn’t expecting you until later.” He said, but it wasn’t a criticism. The actor looked better, like he’d had more than an hour of sleep in the last week, and the darkness behind his eyes was harder to spot. Cas smiled, looking down at his own t-shirt, which was a little bit crinkled. “I hoped I’d have time to shower, at least.” 

Dean smiled back, this weird, warm feeling in his gut that he could only identify as hope. “It’s not like I’ve not seen you like this before.” 

“No, I guess not. But… I was hoping to make a more convincing impression than standing in my sweatpants looking shocked.” Castiel was almost chuckling, and fuck, had Dean missed this. It was hardly like the man was instantly forgiven, but he’d always had this effect on him, always made him feel this warm and happy, just by being there. The real Cas had, at least. Rather than the man who’d he’d been living with the last few months. 

“Could have been worse, Cas, you could have been naked.” Dean smiled, unable to help himself. “Then we might have had a problem.” 

“I guess.” Castiel said, grinning back. “You’ve got drinks?” He asked, answering his own question as he looked at their full cups. He took a few steps closer to the table, and pulled out the chair next to Naomi, taking a seat opposite Sam. Dean could see the inner workings of his mind, wondering whether to say something to the younger Winchester, but they shared a look that contained an unspoken apology, and although Sam pursed his lips, he said nothing. 

“I suppose you two want some time to talk?” Naomi suggested then, and while Dean had thought he’d want to keep Sam around for any conversations, all he wanted right now was to be left alone with his husband so that they could figure out what the hell to do. 

So he nodded, and turned to his brother. “Yeah, can you uh, can you give us a minute?” 

Sam narrowed his eyes, like he was considering refusing to move, but Dean shot him a pleading look, and eventually he relented. But not before shooting Castiel a warning glance which the actor heeded with a blush. 

And then, suddenly, they were alone. Had the air between them always felt so heavy? 

“How… how have you been?” Castiel asked, eyes flashing up from his hands to lock back onto Dean’s. It was obvious he was just as nervous. 

“I’ve been better.” Dean answered honestly, figuring they were past lying to each other to protect their feelings. Castiel’s eyes softened, and Dean didn’t fail to notice how he started to gently nibble on his bottom lip. “How about you?” 

“Uh, yeah.” Castiel stuttered. “I… same, I guess. I’ve been better.” 

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath and quickly rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “I was so worried about you.” He admitted. 

It was Castiel’s turn to sigh, and when Dean pulled his fingers away he could see the uncovered guilt written all over the actor’s face. “Dean… I’m so sorry. _So_ sorry for how I acted. I didn’t want to — I just… I completely lost it.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Dean said quietly. 

But Cas wasn’t done. “I wish more than anything that I hadn’t put you through it. I mean, obviously I wish I hadn’t put you through any of it.”

Dean huffed a sarcastic, half-laugh. “I know, but we both know there’s no taking it back.” 

“No.” Cas agreed. “But I can tell you I’m sorry, and that I really, truly mean it. The therapy has been really helping.” 

“Yeah.” Dean smiled then. “It certainly seems like it’s made a difference. You seem a lot better… y’know, than you were when I last saw you.” 

“I feel it.” Cas said, but his smile faded as nerves returned to his expression. “But, uh. I need to be honest with you. I’m improving, definitely. But I’m not… I’m still not back to normal. The doctor, she doesn’t think… I wouldn’t be ready for anything to change, yet.” 

The lump that rose in the back of Dean’s throat proved difficult to swallow down, and he felt like he was going to choke. Maybe this had been a mistake. Maybe he should have followed Sam’s advice and gone back to Kansas without seeing his husband. Because now that he knew he had to, he didn’t want to at all. This Cas was still damaged, was still a bit unsettled and needed more time and support and Dean was still mad at him, but this was _his_ Cas, and he’d missed him enough over the last two weeks to not want to go leaving him again. Angry or not, the separation was hard. 

He’d paused for long enough that the silence was getting a bit awkward, so before Castiel could say anything else he forced his mouth to open. “Right, yeah, sure.” He mumbled, hoping the disappointment in his voice wasn’t so obvious to Cas as it was to himself. “That’s fine. I’ll go back with Sam for a couple more weeks, then I guess we can reassess.” 

“Oh.” Cas said then, and Dean was surprised to notice the shock in his voice. “Of— Of course.” The movie star stumbled over his words, so Dean looked up, spotting instantly how crestfallen he was. “If that’s what you need.” 

“I— Cas, you just said you didn’t want anything to change.” Dean said, furrowing his brow, but he was praying he could make his husband fight to get him to stay. He wanted to stay, he realised. It wasn’t like he didn’t love his brother and enjoy spending time with him, but the thought of having to go back to Kansas to be with his brother’s loving, perfect family felt like rubbing his own failures in his wounds, like he was just the damaged disappointment that would be intruding on them. 

“Yes, I did, but…” Cas hurried, but it was like he couldn’t find the words, or had found them but couldn’t let them out. “You need to make your own decision.” 

“I’m not going to stay if you don’t want me here.” Dean insisted, wishing that Cas would just muster the balls to tell him he was still wanted. 

“Of course I want you here.” Cas said in disbelief, wide eyes showing all of his hurt. “Dean, I knew it was the right thing, I knew we needed time apart, that you needed time away from me to actually process what happened and that I needed to get my head straight. And it’s not like… I know that you won’t have forgiven me already, I know that. But that doesn’t mean being away from you hasn’t sucked. Because it has. I’ve hated it. And I know that it’s my fault, that all of it was my fault. But it hasn’t stopped me from missing you.” 

“Oh.” Dean said then, a slight smile on his lips. _That_ was what he’d needed to hear. That Cas still had the determination and conviction to fight for him. Hell, he was still mad, but he hadn’t lost his own drive to get his husband back. “But Cas, if I stay things will change, and you said—”

“—No.” Cas interrupted. “I didn’t explain myself well. What I meant was that we still need time before we can be us again. I’m sure you’re not thinking about that either yet. I was trying to say that if you decide to stay, I think we still need space. But Dean, I… I want you here. It’s your decision and if you want to go, I won’t try and stop you. I just… it would be nice to have you around. I wouldn’t know how to even start making it up to you if we weren’t in the same country.”

“So you’d be fine with me staying?” Dean said as a distraction, buying himself some time while he weighed up his options. But he was pretending, really. He’d already made up his mind that he wasn’t leaving. If he left, it would feel like he was giving up. If he stayed, at least he was trying to fight for them. 

“Of course.” Cas whispered, and Dean looked down at the table to notice his husband’s slightly shaking fingers playing with his wedding ring. He glanced down at his own, and smiled. _Messy and complicated_ , he mused. 

“Ok.” He said with a smile. “I’ll talk to Naomi about renting another room?” 

“You could.” Cas agreed, breathing out a sigh of relief that he couldn’t hide. “But I’d planned to move my stuff into the spare bedroom, so you can have the master? This suite is big enough for all of us.”

“Right.” Dean nodded. “I’m happy to stay in here, Cas, but you don’t have to move your stuff. I’ll take the spare.” 

“Well it’s up to you, but I don’t mind, I’ll move—”

“—It’s only a bedroom, Cas. It’s fine.” Dean said, and Cas smiled coyly. “Besides, we’re only in London another week, right? Before we go back to the country?” 

“Yeah.” Cas breathed. “Naomi’s hired that same cottage we stayed in last time. There are three bedrooms in the house, so you can take your pick. Or I could stay in the annexe with the others if you prefer?” 

“Yeah, uh… that’s a problem for next week.” Dean smiled. “Uhm, I’m just gunna speak to Sammy.” He said, pushing his chair away from the table and going to stand. 

“I— I need to thank him.” Cas said then, obviously embarrassed. “Even though he was angry with me he didn’t abandon me. Even though I was being an idiot… I’m grateful.” 

Dean turned back to his husband. “He might be my brother, but he’s been your friend for years, Cas. It’ll take him some time too, but he’ll forgive you eventually.” He said softly, and Cas just nodded as Dean walked nervously into the kitchen area where Naomi and Sam were deep in conversation. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, so he made sure his footsteps were heavy enough that they heard him coming. 

He felt more nervous about telling Sam that he wanted to stay than he had telling Castiel. He was worried that his brother would react badly, would think he was making a mistake. Sam had been very protective over him in the last week, and although he'd maybe taken things a little far at times, Dean was more grateful than his brother knew for the support. And he knew why Sam was reacting like he was. He knew that his brother still felt like he’d failed him in his youth, wished he’d been able to share Dean’s burden. But Dean would take every blow for him again in a heartbeat. He knew Sam only wanted to protect him from further harm, and staying was risky, but he had to stay, even if it hurt. He had to fight and give Cas a chance to win him back. 

As Sam turned around to face him, his eyes narrowed. Dean chewed his lip nervously, wondering if he was _really_ that obvious, but he held his brother’s gaze to prove his strength. 

“You’re staying, then?” Sam asked, and Dean nodded. 

“Yeah.” 

“You’re sure it’s the right move?” 

“I'm sure.” He said confidently. “I haven’t given up on my marriage.” 

Sam sucked in a heavy, deep breath, shooting a glance at Naomi before looking back at his brother. “Ok.” He agreed. “But I swear to god Dean, if things start going wrong again, you call me straight away, or Naomi will.” 

 

*

 

When Dean had decided to stay in the UK, remaining for all intents and purposes separated, he’d thought it would be easy. 

It wasn’t. 

Now that they were sharing the same space again, it was like they both forgot how to behave around the other. For the first couple of days they’d made the effort to talk. But their conversations were forced and awkward and so without discussing it, they’d made the silent decision to let it happen naturally when they finally both felt better. 

So, for the next month, Cas had avoided him like he was a plague victim, and he’d done the same. It might have been easier if they’d remained in London, but they’d had to relocate for Castiel’s shoot, and they found themselves back in the cottage they’d lived in for six months while Cas had filmed the first Star Wars instalment. Dean had looked forward to being reunited with a place that had felt almost like their home the first time around, but he hadn’t realised back then, when he’d been in a happy and loving relationship, how isolating the country was. He’d still had a little charity work that he just about muddled through and the odd press commitment to keep up with, but he had no major projects on the go due to his mood and so he had a lot of time to spend wallowed in his own thoughts while Cas went back to work. 

To occupy his mind, Dean had taken to exploring, and he spent a lot of time walking around the surrounding forests. Something about the fresh air and the green foliage helped to clear his thoughts and help him to keep his head straight. A couple of times, he’d ventured out with Crowley to cities a little further afield, looking at spectacles such as the SS Great Britain, moored in Bristol, and Gloucester Cathedral, which apparently they used to shoot Harry Potter. He took a photo which he sent to Sammy, at any rate. He just wished he could have done all of this with his husband.

Dean was lonely. He talked a lot on the phone to Charlie, to Sam, to Jess, and he and Naomi became weirdly close. He’d spend his evenings talking to her, as if she were his personal therapist.

It couldn’t even be said that what was left of his marriage improved when the actor came home at night. They’d eat, they’d talk a little idly over dinner, and the air wasn’t exactly awkward, but then Cas would excuse himself and go up to the office, where he was apparently working on his computer. Not something Dean had ever known him to do, but recently he didn’t feel like he could question him. 

Although Cas would smile and chat a little with him, they barely touched or talked. He felt so pathetically lonely when they were alone in the cottage. Maybe he could have avoided all this. Maybe if he’d been more mature or more trustworthy, he might have got through to Castiel. More than anything, he felt overwhelmingly sad.

That month, they spent their nights apart. Because Cas wasn’t there he’d lie awake, praying it had been different, wishing he’d been better and worthy of Castiel’s time and energy. And if he did sleep, he’d wake with nightmares, alone, in a cold sweat. 

Tonight was no different. Chuck had once again appeared in the dark of night, hands coming up to grab his throat, his eyes blending with John’s and leaving Dean shaking and gasping for air he couldn’t breathe as he was pinned back against a wall. And when he woke, terrified and alone, his eyes were streaming tears and his lungs were tight like steel. 

It had been six weeks since he’d had the comfort of a body in bed with him. And he was still mad at his husband, but he needed the warmth tonight, needed to hear someone else’s heartbeat to know that he was alive. He pulled up to his feet, hurrying out of his room and along the corridor, feet padding against cold wooden boards before he reached Castiel’s room, stole inside, and climbed straight into bed. 

He was still shaking, from the fear as well as the October cold, when he chanced to look at the man whose bed he’d snuck into. He hadn’t expected to see two blue eyes watching him with surprise and sympathy. Dean sucked in a shuddering breath, but Cas didn’t reach out to comfort him. He never did any more. 

“Are you alright?” The actor asked instead of touching him. 

Dean paused before he answered, steadying his breathing and trying to stay strong. He hadn’t expected to get caught, and had no idea what to say. “It was just Chuck.” He offered in explanation. 

Castiel nodded gently, keeping his eyes trained on Dean. “Yeah, I get those too.” 

A long moment passed before Dean decided on what to say next. He wriggled himself comfortable, adjusting the comforter and dragging more of it to his side of the bed while Cas smiled and let him take what he needed. He was relieved Cas hadn’t asked him to leave. “I don’t have nightmares of you any more.” Dean said then, unsure why he felt the need to say that. 

But Cas seemed to appreciate the information, and he smiled. “Good.” 

“Didn’t want to be alone.” Dean said nervously, but Cas shook his head in reassurance. 

“That’s fine.” 

 

*

 

They’d spent the following night apart again, but the next, Dean had another nightmare. This time, he hadn’t hesitated to crawl into Castiel’s bed, and although once again the actor had been awake, they’d not spoken, just shared a knowing gaze and a smile before falling asleep on their separate sides. 

Then, on the fourth night, as Dean had been getting ready for bed, taking longer than normal because he kept wondering whether to ask to stay with his husband again, Cas had appeared, pyjama clad, in his doorframe. He’d just stood there for a moment, chewing his bottom lip and shuffling on his feet, as if trying to find the words to ask the question. 

“If you want…?” Was all he’d ended up saying, but Dean hadn’t needed any more. He’d smiled, and followed his husband back into the other room where they’d slept, once again in each other’s company. 

And for a whole week, they’d slept in the same bed. But more than once, Dean had woken to find their bed empty. He knew exactly where his husband was, drinking alone on their couch. Tonight, the same thing happened, and Dean was far from surprised. He knew Cas would be dreading today. They had a joint interview booked in, the first since Jonathan Ross, one that Naomi insisted was necessary to portray their strength and togetherness, neither of which were things that currently existed. He was just as nervous as his husband, and a significantly worse actor. 

He pulled out of bed, dragging a robe over his cool skin and taking the steps downstairs one at a time. His husband, sure enough, was sat on the couch with a drink in hand. And Cas hardly even glanced up at him. Dean poured himself a glass of scotch from the cabinet, forgoing the ice as he took a seat next to the man he loved. 

At the intrusion, Cas finally lifted his gaze, eyes settling on Dean’s. For a long moment they locked, unnaturally sad, until Dean caved and let his lips curl into a half smile. He was relieved when Cas returned it. 

The interview had been difficult. They’d had the scrutinising gaze of a hundred people on them as they’d pretended to be as in love as ever. They’d been asked how things were going since Chuck’s arrest, and Dean’s heart had slipped out of his ribcage when Cas had placed a hand on his lower back in support as he’d smiled. _Improving_. He’d said. 

Then they were asked if they were _hanging in there_ , and Dean had had to force his own hand to clench Castiel’s shoulder. The touch was forbidden, but it was like a drug he hadn’t known would give him a high. His heart had raced and all he’d wanted was to press himself as closely against his husband as possible. He’d been so lonely, he’d felt so empty. 

 _It’s a little raw, but we’re ok._  

And later, when they’d been allowed to leave the stage and head to their dressing room, Dean had wanted nothing but to grab his husband in a tight hug. It might have been all he needed, but Cas turned away. 

“We can get through this, Cas.” He insisted after a few quiet moments. 

“I hope so.” 

 

*

 

“Dean?” Naomi’s call was a surprise and her voice was frantic. He knew immediately that there was something wrong, and that it would be regarding his husband. “Castiel is upset.”

“What?” He asked, mind going into overdrive. 

“I’m not sure what happened, but he started yelling and then hid himself away. Listen, I know that you two aren’t in the… best place… right now, but I think you’re still the only person he’d want to see.” 

Dean hadn’t needed any more persuading. Although a part of him highly doubted that Castiel would actually be grateful of his presence, he needed to know that he was alright. So he left the house, careening down the driveway and piling into the car Crowley had been taking him out in. He fired it up, and since they were only shooting a couple of miles away, he was there in minutes. 

On arrival he ignored Naomi, walking straight past her as he headed towards Castiel’s trailer, but he had to stop and take a pause on the top step as he reached it. His heart pounded, but he forced his hand to ball into a fist, and he knocked three times. 

“Naomi, I don’t want to talk.” Cas sighed from inside. His voice was strained, upset, and tired. 

Dean sucked in a deep breath. “It’s me.” He said simply. 

From inside the trailer, there was no noise. Until, after a long pause, he heard shuffling and the click of the lock. 

“It’s open.” Castiel said, and Dean pushed the door back and slipped inside, glancing at his crestfallen husband who had red rimmed eyes and salty tracks on his cheeks. “She called you?” Cas asked. 

Dean nodded, wanting nothing more than to go to him and hold him. He hadn’t been forgiven yet, they both knew that, but seeing him in pain hurt more than he could stand. “She said she heard yelling, and you were upset.” He explained.

“Did she say what I was yelling about?” Cas enquired. 

“No.” Dean shook his head. “She says she didn’t hear.” 

“Right.” 

They both paused for an awkward moment, and Cas backed himself up, sitting himself down on the bench and rubbing his fingers into his forehead in distress and confusion. Dean wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He couldn’t hold his husband. He wanted to comfort him but, he just didn’t know how. He took a seat next to him, legs just grazing, but kept his hands to himself. 

“Are you going to tell me what you argued about?” He asked. 

“I don’t know.” Cas admitted, and something in Dean snapped, then. He’d known they needed space, but this wasn’t space, it was barely even co-existence, and he couldn’t handle it any longer, considering that this might have been the most they’d talked in weeks.

“Cas, I… I know we’re not, like… we’re not married right now? But we _are_ , Cas. You can talk to me.” Dean pleaded. 

“We’re not married.” Cas said, sounding sad. “There’s nothing left of us. We barely even look at each other, let alone talk. I know that’s my fault, not yours, but — I just, I can’t get past this. I’m so sorry.” 

“So what, after all of this, you’re just going to give up on us?” Dean’s voice was calm, but inside his heart was thumping and he was in so much pain he wanted just to end it all. 

“No, that’s not what I said.” Castiel denied, looking Dean in the eye. 

“But you want to break up properly?” Dean asked in disbelief. Inside he was begging. Please, please no. He still wanted to fight, still wanted his husband back. Couldn’t Cas remember what it felt like when things had been good? 

“No, no I don’t, Dean.” Cas sighed, shaking his head. Dean let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, grateful that there was still even a tiny chance. “Stop putting words in my mouth.” 

“Then what, Cas? How do we do this?” 

“I— I don’t know. I guess I need to get through it somehow. I just still can’t believe I treated you that way.” Cas whispered. 

There was another awkward silence then, because Dean couldn’t relive it again for his own mental wellbeing. Chuck haunted his nights as it was, he didn’t need any more pain. “I don’t want to talk about that, Cas.” He said. 

“Ok.” Cas agreed. 

He had to change the subject, had to take away from that darkness that had sudden encompassed his mind. Dean sighed. “What did you argue about?” 

“I don’t want to say, Dean, I don’t want to upset you any more.” Castiel said quietly, but Dean could hardly look at him for the guilt that was in his eyes. 

“So it was about me?” Dean continued to probe. 

“Yeah.” 

“Cas, just tell me.” Dean begged, but his heart was sinking. “I’m a big boy, I promise I can handle it. Please let me in.” 

Cas sighed long and deep, and ran his fingers through his hair before he opened his mouth again. He seemed to accept that Dean wasn’t going to drop it. “I overhead them talking about us. They weren’t even… they mean nothing. They were just a couple of guys in set design. They were talking about what Chuck had said. I heard… they said you abuse me behind closed doors. That there must be some vicious cycle of abuse that there was no way you could have broken out of.” 

“Right.” Dean inhaled. 

“Yeah.” 

“So you yelled at them?” Dean was a little hurt by the statements, but he more than that he was relieved that Cas was backing him up again, that his husband would no longer stand idly by and let his reputation be destroyed. That had to count as some sort of progress, surely? 

“I set the record straight.” Cas admitted with a gentle shrug. “I told them that it was me, that I was the one in the wrong.” 

Dean sighed then, tears welling in his eyes. He had hope though, hope that Cas still wanted him enough to forgive himself. He met his eyes once again, and begged. “Please, Cas. I need you to get past this. I need you back.”

“Dean… I… I’m trying. I just…. I don’t know how.” 

“You’re not trying any more.” Dean accused. “At the start you tried, but now? You’re hiding. There’s space and then there’s cowardice. There’s a difference. If we want to get back together, Cas, we need to work on it. Sleeping in the same bed? It’s a start but it’s not enough. I need you to prove that you still want there to be an _us._ ” 

Rather than rise to the accusation, Cas breathed slowly. “Then I’ll try harder. I’ll try my best. I want to save us, Dean, I do. I need you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update Thursday!


	37. I Still Love You Now As I Always Did

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still moving forward time wise quicker than we had been, but I can't leave it all as doom and gloom now can I? Back Monday!

 

**I still love you now as I always did**

Broken promises tore us apart

I used to know you well

You used to know me well

But I lost you somewhere

 

They hadn’t so much as held hands since they’d agreed to take things slow, and that had been nine weeks ago. The closest they ever got was when they went to bed and stuck strictly to their own sides. Dean had thought their separation or restriction or whatever you want to call it was a good idea, at the time, but this was glacially slow, and it was killing him. How was he supposed to move on if Cas hadn’t? How was he supposed to forgive his husband if he wasn’t reminded what it was that he was fighting for? Lonely wasn’t even the word. There had been several furious masturbation sessions just to relieve growing desires, but if he was honest, above all, he just wanted a fucking hug. 

He’d thought about asking, he’d thought about it, but there was too much guilt in his husband’s eyes whenever he had the courage. He craved touch, needed the contact and reassurance. And so, instead, when Castiel was fast asleep, he shuffled closer, pressing his chest against his husband’s back and sighing at the warmth and the feel of his heartbeat. Even through their t-shirts it felt right, but Dean wanted it all, and he pulled his shirt up so that he could press his skin against his husband’s exposed lower back. Hesitantly, he snaked his arm over his waist, and he knew he hadn’t imagined Castiel’s happy hum in his sleep. 

 

*

 

When Castiel woke, it was still dark. His skin was warm, and he was relieved to feel Dean’s arm looped over his middle. He’d missed them holding each other like this at night. 

He had plans for tomorrow, part of his promise to try and get them back to a good place. This made him hopeful. Until now, Dean had stayed in his half of the bed, and Cas was of the impression that it was because he wanted to. Perhaps this meant things were finally starting to change. He hoped they were changing, anyway. He missed his husband desperately. 

So he rolled in a full 180, and with it Dean stirred, removing his arm and blinking his eyes slowly open. Castiel smiled, a broad, genuine smile, as his husband took him into focus, and with it, Dean smiled too. Cas offered his arm, and obediently, Dean lifted his head so that Cas could tuck it under his neck. Like it was still part of their routine, Dean tucked himself against Castiel’s chest, and the actor wrapped him tightly up with his other arm, breathing a slow, calm, happy breath into his hair while Dean hummed in satisfaction. 

 

*

 

By the time he opened his eyes next, it was bright out. Castiel was back on his own side, facing away from him, arm rolling out periodically to slap off his alarm. And an hour later? It was still bright, the actor was still snoozing and Dean was starting to get irritable. 

“Cas?” Dean asked curiously, nudging him in the ribs when he’d finally had enough of the tone repeating. “You’re meant to be on set.” 

Castiel woke slowly, opening one eye at a time as if checking for danger. But he soon rubbed his hands over his eyes and sat up slowly. “Surprise.” He said, enthusiastically. “I have a day off… I meant to get up early and get you breakfast.” He admitted. “I must have overslept.” 

Dean’s lips curled into a smile with the shock of finally being asked to spend some time with his husband, and the fact that Cas was thinking about him caused a blush to creep over his cheeks. He knew he looked like some pathetic schoolgirl, but he couldn’t help the hope that soared through him. His nagging pain and disappointment had almost entirely burned out, he realised. What he’d been feeling this last week was mainly down to his loneliness. He sat up too, letting their eyes lock in what was the most intimate moment they’d shared in the last nine weeks. “It’s alright.” Dean smiled. “I can help you with breakfast.” 

Beaming, Cas nodded. “Ok.” He agreed. “But, uh… I’ve got another surprise for later, if you wanted. I’ve… uhm… I’ve booked us dinner. If you wanted… you know…?” 

“Castiel Novak.” Dean grinned, surprised but overjoyed by his husband’s change of attitude. He loved how Cas was getting all embarrassed like it was their first time. Like they’d not been married for the better part of four years. “Are you asking me out?” 

Cas smirked. “Will you go on a date with me?” 

 

*

 

It was one of the better days of Dean’s year by a long way. Somehow, it was already November, and as the year drew to a slow close, Dean’s pain did too. 

They’d made pancakes together that morning. Cas, as it turns out, was still as incompetent as ever in the kitchen, so it was probably a good thing that he hadn’t been left to make the breakfast alone, because when Dean took one minute out to go and use the bathroom, the smoke alarm went off and they had a blackened pan to deal with at the end of it. He hadn’t seemed to mind though, that Dean had laughed at him for ten minutes straight as they’d made up another mixture. And the mechanic definitely didn’t mind that he got to stand so close, that he was allowed to touch Castiel’s hand to guide it when flipping them, that their space was so diminished that he could once again feel Castiel’s breath on his cheek. 

He had wanted to kiss him, and he’d seen the way that Castiel’s eyes had darted to his lips like he wanted the same thing. But he held strong, and turned his gaze away. Nine weeks without his taste was a long time, his body screamed, but his mind knew that holding back would be for the best. 

Tonight, they were out for dinner. Crowley had escorted them in the car, but when they parked up Castiel scrambled out of his seat, hurrying around to the other side so that he could open Dean’s door for him, and he offered his hand to help his husband up. Dean smiled when he did, and Cas let their hands linger together for longer than necessary when Dean had stood up. Even just touching him, it still felt so right. They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, while Crowley pretended to vomit behind them and the driver laughed. Their agreement remained fairly private, and only Kevin, Sam, and Naomi were privy to it. 

“So, how are you?” Castiel asked when they’d sat themselves down and their drinks had been brought over. Dean raised an eyebrow, but he was smiling. 

“Fine, I guess.” He shrugged. “I’m having a nice day.” 

“Me too.” Castiel commented. “I’ve really enjoyed spending it with you.” 

Dean smirked. “You don’t need to sound so surprised!”

“As if it would be a surprise.” Cas grinned, taking no notice of Dean’s mock offence. He reached his hand hesitantly out over the table and after glancing at it curiously for a moment, Dean seemed to finally understand, and took it in his own. He watched his husband visibly relax now that they were joined again, but after a few minutes, some tension returned to Castiel’s expression, and Dean braced himself. “I… uhm. I should probably tell you something.” 

Dean’s mood darkened considerably, and he started to panic internally. He kept his cool, though, and nodded as cue for Cas to go on. 

“I haven’t been working late. When I go up to the office? I’m not working.” Cas admitted. 

Castiel’s rambling wasn’t doing anything to alleviate Dean’s concerns, and his panic rose as he chewed his lip. 

“A few weeks ago I decided I needed to continue the therapy.” Cas went on, and Dean’s fears fell away all at once. “I’ve been video calling Dr Nygard. He’s not… he’s not exactly a marriage counsellor but I trust him, and he’s been helping me to come to terms with the way I treated you. It’s not… it’s not like I’ve forgiven myself… but he’s said a lot. It was him that suggested I start trying to make it up to you. And after what you said a couple of weeks ago about how I wasn’t trying? I knew I needed to change that. He said I should be reaching out to you rather than withdrawing myself. I’m glad I listened to him.” 

“I’m glad you did too.” Dean agreed, a fresh smile on his lips. 

“He’s been trying to help me to understand. He thinks that people like me who were adopted at a young age can develop issues with abandonment—”

“—Which I don’t suppose I’d have helped when I walked out on you when we were eighteen.” Dean interjected. 

“Maybe, yeah. But he says I was old enough to have developed attachment issues and that even though I was only three, Chuck might have messed me up. So even though I had a good upbringing after, maybe his coming back to my life triggered something off, and all these repressed feelings of being unloved that I had as a child bubbled to the surface, and because of that I lashed out at you. Maybe it was because he told me to pick you and because I was harbouring a little resentment anyway. He gave me a direction to aim those feelings in.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Dean said softly, sipping his champagne with a thoughtful expression. It didn’t hurt so much to talk about this, any more. That was a relief in itself. Had he actually, finally forgiven him? Maybe not quite, but he felt ready to work on _them_ again, anyway. 

“Dean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not excusing my behaviour. But Nygard is helping me to understand it so that I can make sure it never happens again and then… maybe we can move on.” Cas sighed. “I didn’t want to ruin our day by talking about all of this, but I thought you should know, and Nygard has been pushing me to get you to come into a session with me, if you want.” 

And to think he’d almost been done with therapy this time last year. Dean was pleased that Cas had asked for help, because he’d known it was needed sooner or later, and this was the healthiest way of getting them back to a good place. Nygard had talked a lot about childhood trauma and repression when he’d been in his own sessions. God knows he’d had enough of that to talk about. Hence why he’d been in therapy for well over a year. It wasn’t implausible that Cas would have his own issues, now that Dean had met Chuck. 

“Do you think it will help if I join you?” Dean asked. 

“Nygard certainly thinks so. And there’s nothing I’d say to him that I wouldn’t say to you. I don’t think it can hurt.” Cas smiled. 

“Then sure, we can do couple’s therapy or whatever they’re calling it.” Dean smiled back, and squeezed Castiel’s hand a little tighter. “If it will help to fix us, I’ll do anything.” 

 

*

 

Couple’s therapy had been interesting to say the least. But it seemed to have helped. Dean didn’t want to get his hopes up too much, but when Cas had taken Nygard’s advice and suggested they stare into each other’s eyes for a few minutes following the session, he knew his husband was trying. And as he gazed at him, although he felt a bit uncomfortable and weird, he felt like he could see straight into Castiel’s soul, where the raw pain he’d become so used to had receded, and what was left was hope, love, and trust. 

Nygard had been pleased with their progress by the next session. It had been subconsciously done, but they’d apparently sat down closer together, looked at each other more, and actually addressed their problems as being their own rather than laying down blame. Dean was unsure how it was working, but he felt that it was. Cas smiled more often, talked more often and every night now they were going to sleep, tightly wrapped in each other’s arms.

And meanwhile, they’d continued to date, going out a couple of times a week. It was weird, because they’d skipped the whole dating thing, both as teenagers when they’d basically had a secret, on-again-off-again relationship, and also as adults, when they’d finally admitted their true feelings to one another. It was weird, but it was nice. 

A couple of times they’d gone out for dinner, once to see a movie, and another time they’d gone bowling. Dean had thought he’d walk the latter, his skills on the lanes used to be pretty great. But he’d forgotten that one movie Cas had starred in about a professional bowler, and how his husband had apparently tried out method acting. 

Tonight they were trying something new. They’d headed away from the country and into the city, finding a bar with loud music, alcohol, and dancing. It had taken a few drinks before Cas had the confidence to hold out a hand and nod his head in the direction of the dance floor, but although Dean was barely drunk enough, he relented, clasping the fingers between his own as he pulled up to his feet. 

The music was fast, Latino, and mostly instrumental, but Dean was enjoying it. Cas seemed to be too, with his martini in hand. The dance floor was crowded and busy, but no one was paying any attention because no one expected to see two Hollywood celebrities out dancing thousands of miles away from home. They received a couple of looks, but the drunk public failed to notice their company, and continued to move against each other with the beat. 

There wasn’t much space, and as the song changed there were cheers, and another group of people pushed their way onto the floor. Dean found himself pressed up against his husband, closer than he had been for a long time, as Cas settled his now empty glass down and let his hands fall to Dean’s waist. 

The actor ground his hips in a quick circle, a monumental smirk on his lips that Dean couldn’t fail to smile at, and he let his body move as Cas commanded, guiding with his hands into a close and personal dance. Dean had no idea how to dance or what the hell he was doing, but just like at their wedding, his drama school graduate husband led him, flipping one hand quickly up to catch his own as he pulled their lower halves flush together. 

They’d been cuddling in bed for a couple of weeks now, but this felt like the closest they’d been in months. Dean could feel his husband’s hot, quick breaths caressing his cheek as their feet moved together in quick steps, could sense his rapid pulse underneath his skin. He could see Castiel’s need as clearly as he could feel his own, and he could sense how hard his husband was holding back from taking things a step further.

His hand found the back of Castiel’s neck, their foreheads almost touching, eyes forever connected. Their chests were pressed up against each other’s, their sweaty heat radiating together, and he took in a breath he wasn’t sure he’d ever release. 

He could kiss him, he knew. He could bring their lips back together like they always did belong. He could take him anywhere and give in to what they both wanted. In a heartbeat, he could have him. 

He wanted it. And he knew Castiel did too. But he couldn’t, could he? He wanted, oh god, how he wanted, but what they needed might be so different. 

It could have broken him, he was sure, but despite the fuzzy blur that those fruity cocktails had gifted to his mind, he came to his senses. Dean smiled, and reluctantly let go of his husband, taking a step back with a nod as he led the way off of the dance floor, ignoring the throbbing need between his legs. 

The air felt a little tenser, after that. Dean almost felt like he ought to apologise, like his denial of what was so obviously a very charged moment between them was some sort of rejection. He’d never reject Cas willingly. He just hoped his husband knew that. He didn’t have to stew for very long though, because shortly after they’d found a table and settled back to sitting, Cas stood up again, wandered off in search of the bar following a hurried explanation. 

Dean was still thinking it over, was still considering jumping Castiel’s bones as soon as the actor returned, but his musing was interrupted by a brunette in a tight green dress that amplified ample cleavage. 

“Oh. My. God.” The girl, who couldn’t have been older than twenty-five exclaimed excitedly. Dean looked up into her hazel eyes in confusion, his drunken stupor leaving him entirely unsure why she’d be at all interested to notice him. “You’re Dean Winchester!” She beamed, and it was only then that he remembered his fame. 

“Wha— Oh, right, yeah.” Dean muttered, very uninterested at the thought of entertaining her. But she didn’t seem to notice his bored tone, and she sat herself down in Castiel’s chair without asking for permission, confidence radiating off of her in waves. It was almost intimidating. Dean turned his head to look at her, waiting patiently for some sort of explanation as to why he was being bothered. 

“So, uh, I’m a med student.” The girl started, but Dean’s expressionless reaction didn’t seem to deter her. “My name is Stephanie, and I came over here to study. I’m originally from Nebraska.” She went on. 

“Uh… Good for you?” Dean said, almost a question. Why was he supposed to care? 

“So my best friend Brianna, she has the biggest crush on Castiel.” Stephanie continued, and Dean just raised his eyebrows. 

“Well, that’s bad luck.” He said, entirely undeterred but a little annoyed. “For a start, she’s definitely not going to be his type, and secondly, he’s definitely spoken for.” 

And to his surprise, Stephanie just smiled, eyes narrowing flirtatiously. “She’s on the dance floor right now. She’s all about him, but I’m all about you. So are you honestly telling me that you two wouldn’t like a couple of extra pairs of hands to spice things up in your bedroom tonight?” 

Dean’s jaw dropped open and his eyes widened, completely taken aback by her outright proposal. He went as if to stand and walk away, but a firm hand landed instantly on his shoulder, holding him down. He didn’t have to look behind him to recognise his husband’s touch, but he did glance over his shoulder when Stephanie’s confident expression morphed quickly into one of embarrassment before she stood and turned, walking quickly away. 

Castiel let go of his shoulder quickly, and the jealous anger that Dean had seen a moment ago had been instantly replaced by a coy uncertainty, like Cas was worried he’d overstepped. At the sight of it, Dean smiled in reassurance. He wouldn’t admit out loud that Castiel’s little display of envy and possessiveness had turned him on a little, but his cock was definitely trying to let everyone know about it. He crossed his legs, leaning forward as Cas resumed his seat and eyed him guiltily. 

“Was someone jealous?” Dean teased, and Cas just rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not sure I have the right to be.” Cas admitted, and Dean furrowed his brow at the sudden change in mood. He didn’t enjoy the reminder that not all was sunshine and roses in their marriage. It was easier to pretend that good conversation and sexually charged moments were all that they ever experienced. 

“Of course you have the right to be.” He insisted, but his mood was definitely a little damper. 

They continued to drink, clearing another six glasses of whatever cocktails the bartender was coming up with next, until their heads were spinning and the lights were blinding. The more he drank, though, the more his stomach started to protest, and with that last tequila shot, he knew he’d overdone it. 

“Oh god.” Dean muttered some five minutes later, when his head was bent over the toilet bowl, that last tequila shot glaring at him. The nausea had totally ruined his otherwise good mood, and left him a little snarky and irritable. He’d snapped a minute before, when Cas had asked him if he was alright as he tried and failed not to bring his guts up. 

And when his husband asked again, his anger started to snowball. “Obviously not.” He snarked, and he could hear Castiel’s exasperated sigh from behind him as the actor sat his ass down on the tiles in the cubicle they’d rushed into. 

Dean paused again to vomit, the acidic burn in his throat almost as acrid as the thoughts in his mind. His eyes were already streaming with tears from the retching, but memories of pain he’d been trying to forget kept swimming up to the surface, and suddenly it added to them. 

“Talk to me?” Cas requested when Dean broke down in unexplained sobs. The movie star’s hand went out to rub his back, and although Dean shunned it off, he regretted it as soon as he was left cold and untouched. 

“Sometimes I just remember how much of a dick you were.” Dean said suddenly, and he turned his head to watch his husband recoil from the viciousness of his tone. He hadn’t meant to sound quite so angry, but maybe he had to let this all out. “I keep thinking I’ve forgiven you, Cas. I almost have. But then… but then I remember, and I just… I’m still a little mad. And I know. I know you haven’t tried to make excuses, that you’ve accepted responsibility and whatever. But I’m even madder that you were right with your explanations. I know I was partly to blame. That the things you’d been through, the things I’d done to you, they left you with your own issues and almost predisposed to do that to me. I will get past it, Cas, I just… I haven’t quite yet. I’m less angry, and now that we’re getting better, now that we’re going back to the way we were, it doesn’t hurt so much.” 

Castiel let him speak, whether because he was being respectful or whether he was shocked into silence, Dean didn’t know. But now that his stomach didn’t feel like it was going to spontaneously empty itself again, Dean pushed himself forward, welcoming the arms that Castiel enveloped him with as he buried himself against him, nuzzled into his neck. Now that he’d got that out the anger had faded again, but he still felt upset and guilty. 

“Did I ever say sorry?” Dean asked then, and Cas turned his head into him, burying his face into Dean’s hair as encouragement for him to continue. “For, y’know, leaving you high and dry for all those years? Because I should have. I should have known that explaining myself wasn’t enough, no matter how good an excuse it was. So I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of that.” 

Cas sighed then, squeezing him tightly in support and forgiveness. “It’s ok.” He soothed, lips somewhere against Dean’s scalp. “I know that you’re sorry, and I’m more sorry than anything that I hurt you. I know that you were scared and trying to do what was best for us. I’m just sorry I couldn’t stop myself from developing some sort of complex about it. I get it, and I forgive you, but those ten years sucked without you. And nothing we do now will change that. “

Dean nodded, still sobbing against Castiel’s neck on the floor of the bathroom. “But we have another chance now, right?” He asked. “We have to try and make up for all of the pain.” 

“We will, Dean, we’ll get passed this.” 

 

*

 

Oh, god. Would that knocking just shut up? 

Cas tried desperately to bury his face deeper into his pillow, Dean’s hand coming to rest somewhere on his waist as it slipped away from his back. His head was pounding angrily, and even without his eyes being open the room was spinning. Jesus Christ, he really felt like he might throw up. 

“Castiel, you better not be naked, I’m coming in.” Naomi’s shrill voice squeezed through the gaps in the door while Cas groaned. He definitely didn’t want to see anyone right now, and who knows if he’s naked or not? He couldn’t move his head enough to check. 

How in hell had they got home last night? He remembered Dean throwing up and the two of them having a little heart to heart in the bathrooms, and then what? Was Kevin involved? He seemed to have a vague memory of being lifted off of the floor and helped into their car. It must have been Kevin, and he supposed Crowley was there to help Dean, too. He would definitely not have been able to walk straight if Cas couldn’t. He grimaced as he heard the unmistakable sound of their bedroom door opening. 

“I know you boys had a late one last night.” Naomi spoke at him, and he groaned, rolling his head to try and vaguely focus on her. “Kevin did send me a rather entertaining picture of the two of you collapsed together in the back of the car at just gone 4am. But it’s now 2pm, and unfortunately Castiel, I need you.” 

“Can’t.” Cas managed to say, and he took a few slow breaths while he tried not to vomit. Next to him, Dean was just starting to open his eyes, looking equally unhappy about being woken. 

“Not optional, Castiel.” Naomi said firmly, and Cas groaned again. 

“What’s going on?” Dean asked then as he came to his senses, fists lifting up to rub his eyes. 

“The Oscar committee want to talk to Castiel.” Naomi said then, and Cas sucked in an irritable breath. Obviously he was delighted that they wanted to talk to him, because that surely meant he’d been nominated again, but god, it just had to be today didn’t it, when he was carrying one of the worst hangovers of his life. 

Dean laughed then, and Cas felt like poking him in the gut to see how he liked having his stomach vibrated. He rolled his eyes, eyeing his husband with mild, mostly pretend irritation. “That’s great, Nay, but I’m telling you, I can’t move right now.” 

“Well you’re going to have to.” Naomi smirked, and as Castiel glanced between both his manager and his husband he realised they were both enjoying themselves, and his eyes narrowed. 

“I honestly think I’ll puke if I get up right now.” He said, but he should have known he’d get no sympathy. 

“Better out than in.” Dean chuckled, shoving him playfully in the direction of their en-suite. 

Cas shot his husband a glare, but he thought he’d better try and get on with it. He went to stand, nausea building in his stomach at the movement. 

“A cold shower might help.” Dean called, but Cas hardly heard him as he ran to the bathroom to throw up whatever had been left behind from last night. 

 

*

 

An hour or so later, and Dean was lounging very comfortably on the cottage’s squashy brown couch, curled up in a blanket and flicking through Netflix in hopes of finding some new show to start watching tonight. Nygard had suggested they find new activities to do together, things in common, things to talk about and all that. It could hardly hurt, he supposed, even if they rarely lacked in conversation on a good day. 

He still felt pretty much like shit, but he knew he was the lucky one. He’d managed to get most of the alcohol out of his system while drunk, his poor husband had to bring it all back up now he was sober. He couldn’t help but find that just a little bit funny, though. And it was entertaining that he had to speak to the Oscar committee while managing the hangover from hell. 

They had to remember to avoid tequila. Why the hell did he always go for the tequila? 

Dean turned his head at the sound of footsteps coming back down the stairs, and he smiled at Naomi as she let herself out, followed slowly behind by the plodding movie star who was hanging his head and looking extremely sorry for himself. Castiel reached the living room a few seconds later, hunched over, and glanced quickly around at the remaining seats, which were admittedly too small for his six foot frame. 

“Alright there, Cas?” Dean taunted, stretching out his legs in his ample space. 

“Need to lie down.” Cas mumbled, but a smile found his lips when he met the one on Dean’s. “Move over.” He demanded. 

“No way, this is my couch.” Dean protested, but he was grinning, and he did move himself back when Cas stumbled over towards him and basically collapsed onto the couch with him. Dean offered out his arm, and Cas lifted his neck, comfortably embracing the contact as Dean clutched him tight. Their lips were close enough to kiss again, Dean couldn’t help but notice, and he pulled his head back a little further to resist the temptation. “What did the Oscar committee want?” He asked.

“Informing me of nominations.” Cas said with a smile. 

Dean grinned, still proud of his husband, but he intended to tease him a little bit more before congratulating him. “Really? I’d assumed they were redacting your last one.” He laughed. 

“They tried.” Cas chuckled. “But I put up a fight.” 

“I bet you did.” Dean beamed. “So, what nominations?” 

“We got four.” Cas said, suddenly a little coy, and a tiny bit of pink rose to his cheeks. 

“For that space biopic that sucked?” Dean teased. Castiel was well aware that his husband hadn’t exactly understood that movie, let alone enjoyed it. 

“It was critically acclaimed.” Cas protested, but he was laughing. “But yeah, we’re up for best picture, best supporting actor, best soundtrack, and uh, I’m up for best actor.” 

“I expected no less.” Dean smiled then, his tone suddenly honest. “Well done Cas, you deserve it.”

“Thanks.” Cas grinned. “But I don’t think I’d have been able to do it without the support of a certain amazing person.” 

“He sounds like a great guy.” 

“Oh, he is.” Cas smirked, but his smile quickly faded and was replaced by something more genuine. “I sorta fucked things up with him, though.”

“Yeah?” Dean muttered, as something to fill the suddenly awkward air. 

“Yeah, but I’m trying to win him back. You see, I’m kinda into him.” Cas went on, a renewed smile lighting up his eyes while Dean watched with wonder. 

“Maybe he’s into you too.” Dean said with a wink. 

“Well, he is letting me date him, so you never know.” Cas teased. He sighed happily, watching Dean’s lips smile back at him, just as content.

“You never know.” Dean agreed. 

Cas brought a light finger up to Dean’s cheek, and gently stroked it along his jawbone. “Soon.” He whispered. 


	38. How Wonderful Life Is, While You're in the World

I hope you don't mind,

I hope you don't mind,

That I put down in words,

**How wonderful life is while you're in the world.**

 

The December air had cooled down considerably, and the first of this winter’s snow was beginning to fall, lingering in the air and catching on cold ground. As he strode up the path and stepped inside the house, Cas was grateful for the central heating that wrapped around his chilly limbs. He called out his husband’s name by way of alerting him to his return, but his shout went unanswered. Cas took little notice, shrugging off his pea coat and scarf, rubbing his arms down as he tried to warm up. 

He headed initially into the living room, but it was left in the evening’s darkness, the lights and the TV switched off, and Dean was nowhere in sight. He scoured the rest of the house then, curious as to where Dean might be and what he was doing, but he wasn’t to be found. Castiel frowned as he pulled his sweater from over his head, and as he slowly undressed he had a thought, and hurried to the window in the bedroom. 

Sure enough, the lights to the jacuzzi were on, partially sheltered by the trees and bushes that surrounded the built in pool, and from here, Cas could make out Dean’s shadow relaxing in the warm water. 

Within minutes, Cas had changed, pulling swim shorts over his legs, and he’d hurried down into the kitchen, pulling a chilled bottle of champagne from the fridge along with the chocolate dipped strawberries he’d prepared last night as a surprise. He took a deep breath before pulling open the glass double doors to the garden, a towel over his shoulder as he hurried, almost naked, through the snow and over to the hot tub. 

Dean beamed as he looked up, noticing he was about to be joined. He shuffled over to allow Cas space as the actor hastily climbed inside, crouching to dip his shoulders under the jacuzzi’s warmth as he shivered away the cold of winter. Dean watched as Cas adjusted to the climate, and when the movie star was warm enough, he let Dean envelope him in a welcoming hug. 

“Been out here long?” Castiel questioned as Dean let him go. 

His husband glanced down at his hands, where his fingers had turned wrinkly and prune like. “A fair while.” Dean answered. 

Castiel poured them both a glass of champagne, which Dean accepted gratefully, settling back into a built in lounger and sipping the sweet wine thoughtfully. His eyes lit up even more when Cas uncovered the strawberries, and his mouth watered in anticipation when the actor held one up to his lips and let his teeth bite into it. 

They spent a few minutes in a comfortable quiet, drinking, eating, and feeding each other strawberries with goofy grins and a feeling of complete peace. It was times like this that Cas missed Dean the most. These happy, peaceful moments reminded him so strongly of everything he’d risked, everything he’d almost lost, and it was these times where he was the most tempted to end their pact and lean in to kiss his husband senseless like he always used to. 

“Well, since we’re in Britain…” Dean said with a sudden smile, snapping Castiel’s attention back to him. The mechanic lifted his glass halfway between the two men, and Castiel’s initial curious look was quickly replaced with understanding as he lifted his own to clink against his husband’s. 

“Cheers.” Dean smirked, while Cas rolled his eyes. 

“Cheers.” Cas agreed, taking a sip as if they’d toasted themselves. 

“There’s something nice about this.” Dean began again, settling his glass down and looking up at the dark, snowing sky. “Y’know, the cold, the snow? We don’t get that at home.” 

Castiel smiled. “I know, this is definitely a different experience to our own jacuzzi.” He agreed. He rolled his head, eyes locking straight onto Dean’s, who may have been staring at him for a few moments now, but he was smiling, and Cas couldn’t help but smile back. All Cas wanted was to be close to him, and he lifted his arm, Dean automatically accepting the offer and cuddling into him without a second thought. It felt so fucking natural to be pressed against each other, so right and true. 

Dean looked up, drawing Castiel’s attention downwards, and Cas got completely, entirely lost in the wonder of his husband’s eyes. Their whole story was on display. Their whole life, with every battle, every heartbreak. All of the arguments, all of the smiles, and all of the sex, too. Dean’s arousal was as clear as the rest of it, and although Castiel’s own desire felt heavy between his legs, he tried to force his gaze away. 

His mind, however, had other ideas, and his eyes instead caught sight of Dean’s perfect pink lips, sitting there, waiting to be kissed. He stared down for a few long moments and swallowed before he caught sight of the smudge of chocolate on the corner. 

“You’ve got a little…” Cas trailed off, gesturing to the mark. Dean brought a hand up to wipe at it, but missed entirely. Cas watched him for a few more seconds before giving in, and he half wondered if Dean was acting dumb on purpose, because the sparks that ripped through him when he ran his thumb over the corner of his husband’s lip almost had him tearing Dean’s shorts off. It was all he could do to hold back, but he was powerless to the gaze, and their stare continued, Castiel’s gaze flashing between his husband’s pretty green eyes and his beautiful plump lips. 

It was obvious that Dean wanted to kiss him. It was obvious, and Castiel himself was just as desperate to press their lips together again like they always had belonged. But Dean didn’t move, made no attempt to close in, so with more effort than he’d ever had to muster, Cas dragged his eyes away to look once again up at the sky, desperately ignoring the protesting boner he hoped Dean couldn’t see. 

As they stayed cautiously quiet, held back by their heightened arousal, Cas was kicking himself for not making the move. The truth was he was scared. He’d worked through a lot of his mind’s issues now, and all his heart wanted was his husband back. But he was scared, terrified, that if he moved too quickly he’d scare Dean off, lose him again. He had to wait for him to take that step, had to be sure it was what his husband wanted too. 

Their individual reveries were interrupted then, by the rumbling sound of Dean’s stomach. Cas laughed, unable to help it, and he turned to meet Dean’s devilish grin with a broad smile of his own.

“If my stomach wasn’t growling I’d stay here all night.” Dean complained, and Cas chuckled. 

“If you’re hungry, we could go in and I could cook for you?” The movie star suggested. 

It was Dean’s turn to laugh then, a belly-laugh that Cas tried not to take to heart. “Is that meant to be a treat?” Dean grinned. “No offence, but every time you cook you’ve basically tried to burn the house down while you’re at it.” 

At that, Castiel pouted, but the laughter in his eyes showed he was taking it as the joke it was meant to be. “I could learn.” He protested in a pretend strop. 

“But probably not in one evening, Cas.” Dean pointed out. 

“Maybe, maybe not.” Cas shrugged, still beaming. “But if you want me to, I’ll try.” 

Dean grinned, keeping his eyes locked intensely with his husband’s. “It’s alright. You have many redeeming qualities aside from your, arguably diabolical, culinary skills.” 

“Ooh, big words.” Cas chuckled, rolling his eyes in mock-annoyance. “And what do my redeeming qualities include?” 

“Well.” Dean paused. “Your average looks, and passable acting talent, I suppose.” He deadpanned.

“Passable?!” Cas pretended to look shocked. “And how many Oscars have you won?” 

“Approximately one less than you, I believe.” Dean smirked. “I’m only teasing. You know I lo—” He paused, face falling as he realised what he was about to say. “—That I, uh, that I care a lot about you?” He recovered. 

Castiel’s eyebrows raised without his permission as he let the surprise wash over him, and he pulled his gaze away from Dean’s to avoid it getting awkward. Even though Dean hadn’t finished the sentence he’d meant it, and Cas hadn’t realised how much he’d needed to hear it. It was his reassurance. He loved Dean too, more than anything else on this planet. It had been such a long time since he’d heard the words or felt the sentiment, but he knew it was the truth, he could feel that it was. 

To lighten the suddenly tense mood, Cas looked back at him and winked, a smile on his lips. “You know I lo— care a lot about you too, right?” Cas said in order to tease him, and Dean breathed out an audible sigh of relief. Castiel chuckled then, and leant forward, tightening his arm’s grip around Dean’s shoulder in a loose hug. But Dean, it seemed, needed more. He beamed, but snuck his free arm around Castiel’s waist, pulling closer, so Cas returned the squeeze, keeping his husband as close as physically possible for a few long moments. 

And when they pulled apart, Dean’s eyes were full of hope. “We’re getting there, right?” He asked cautiously. 

Castiel nodded in agreement, beaming. “We are.” 

 

*

 

The holidays came around quickly, it felt like every year just got shorter and shorter. Most of the production shut down for a week or so so that the cast and crew had some time off, and in the run up, when they’d discussed plans, Castiel had offered to fly them home so that they could spend it with their family. All Dean had wanted however was to spend their time together. So they stayed in the UK, with hired temps for security while Naomi, Kevin and Crowley flew home to be with their own families. 

Christmas morning held more excitement nowadays than it had as a child, and Dean was more glad than he had been in a long time to see out a year. He woke up that morning with his husband’s leg between his, Castiel’s warm breaths hitting his forehead. The natural light was pouring in through the gaps in the curtains, and he felt comfortably peaceful. Apart from his terrible case of morning wood, that he’d have to deal with and reasonably soon. 

As he shuffled, trying to move back out of Castiel’s arms, the actor’s grip tightened like a vice, and his leg pushed up, squashing Dean’s cock back against his stomach with delightful pressure. Fuck, he’d been so wound up recently. It felt like he’d been permanently aroused ever since he and Cas had been back on good terms. He’d taken his own cock in hand more often recently than he had done even as a teenager, he’d wager. The space had definitely done them good, he knew that, but his dick had _not_ been happy about it. 

Dean pulled back again, and this time Cas relented, rolling over to the other side of the bed in something of a strop. Dean watched him fondly before pulling back, and clambering awkwardly out of the bed. He headed straight into the bathroom and once he’d emptied his bladder he stood, staring at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands. 

If he was being totally honest, he was almost surprised that their marriage had made it through those horrible few months. If he’d been asked back in September whether they’d have made it to Christmas, he’d have been entirely unconvinced. 

But it was _Cas_ wasn’t it? It always had been. The same Cas who’d hidden behind his mother’s legs the first time they’d met, who Dean had lured out of his shyness with his goofy faces. The same Cas who’d looked out for him in every way he could as they grew up, who’d taught him how to be a friend, and how to fall in love. The same Cas who he’d completely screwed over. The same Cas who’d forgiven him for all that and still trusted him anyway. The same Cas he’d fallen for all over again, who he gave up his life for. The same Cas he’d comforted after his mother died, the same Cas who’d married him. The same Cas he was always meant to be with. They were inextricably linked, mind, body, and soul, and Dean knew they always would be. 

The profile in the mirror looked older than it had at the start of the year. Obviously, getting old was an inevitability, but his skin felt a little looser and there was the beginnings of a wrinkle in the corner of his eye. This year had aged him immeasurably, but he couldn’t deny he was glad, now. It would have been far easier had Chuck never entered their lives, but at least now there was nothing left to discover. And to think they’d been on the verge of starting a family, while Cas was harbouring all of that resentment? No, it had been painful, but perhaps it had been necessary to make them stronger. Both as individuals and together. 

The thought of a family had him chewing down on his lip, because more and more he was thinking about it again, how much he wanted a baby. He wasn’t stupid, he knew they had to get their marriage completely back to normal before they went ahead with anything, but he felt ready now, to be a husband again, and hopefully, to soon become a father. 

With that warm thought in mind, he switched off the faucet and ambled back into the bedroom, where his husband was still peacefully asleep. That, he intended to change pretty quickly. 

He was smirking as he climbed back into the bed and put his cold hands on Castiel’s lower back. The actor squirmed away unhappily, almost falling out of the bed in the process, but Dean chuckled until Cas turned around, frowning until he took sight of Dean’s beautifully happy face and caved in a little. 

“Wake up.” Dean requested, grinning. “We need to go see if Santa’s been.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes, mildly irritated but clearly willing to entertain him. “Mmm, right. Happy Christmas.” He muttered, as Dean pulled the comforter off of them both excitedly, leaving Cas frowning and rubbing his arms of the cold. 

“Come on.” Dean pleaded playfully, and he got back up and pulled thick pyjamas on over his boxers, tossing a similar pair over to his husband. 

It could never be said that Castiel was a morning person. The movie star, who was used to working weird shifts that sometimes went into the night, drew the line at early mornings. It was a source of great amusement for Dean, who enjoyed thoroughly forcing him to get up and watching him pout over it. This morning was no different, and after he’d all but dragged Castiel downstairs and onto the couch, he handed him a coffee, about the one thing that was guaranteed to cheer him up a little. 

“Thanks.” Cas mumbled, shooting Dean a grateful glance as the mechanic tucked into a bowl of cereal. Cas wasn’t really a breakfast sort of person, most of the time anyway. He might have the odd bacon sandwich every now and again but generally speaking he ate to live, while his husband most definitely lived to eat. 

“So, do you want your present now or after dinner?” Dean asked a few minutes later, when his bowl had been emptied. Cas just shrugged, but his eyes did light up a little more in excitement, and because of it, Dean smiled, getting up and crossing to their beautifully decorated six foot tree, where gifts lay underneath. He picked up a large, heavy, rectangular parcel and handed it over to his husband who looked at it gratefully. “This one’s from me.” 

Castiel looked genuinely touched that Dean had still bought him a gift, and Dean considered pointing out that even though they’d taken some time, they _were still married,_ but he figured Cas might get upset if they talked about all that again and he’d rather just enjoy their day. He watched as the actor unwrapped his present, a large leather-bound scrapbook, something Dean made him each year. It had started after they’d gotten together, and become a tradition. 

“I know we haven’t had the best year, but I still had to.” Dean whispered from his husband’s side when he noticed the tears welling in Castiel’s eyes. “And I know some of those pictures were from really tough times…” He went on, as Cas flipped through and found pictures taken during their more difficult months, and a shot of them on stage with Jonathan Ross. “But it’s our life, it’s the truth, and I had to be honest about it.” 

Castiel sniffed as he took in a more recent photo, a selfie they’d taken in that Latino bar a month or so previously, and instead he started to smile, nodding. Dean laced his arm around his husband’s shoulder while Cas finished flipping through the pages, and when he reached the last page he let out a light chuckle. Dean usually hid his surprises here, and he hadn’t let him down this year. He’d attached the itinerary for a four night stay in Iceland this January while Cas had a planned break from work. 

“Iceland?” Cas asked curiously, but he was beaming. 

“It’s something different.” Dean grinned. “Thought we could try and catch the Northern Lights.” 

“Might be romantic.” Cas laughed. “It’s perfect, Dean. Thank you, I’ll look forward to it.” 

“You’re welcome.” Dean’s smile became softer, and he couldn’t help but drop his gaze quickly to Castiel’s lips. It was the sort of moment where they’d have shared a tender kiss, if their physical relationship had been resumed already. Cas moved, though, before Dean could get any ideas. He shuffled off of the couch and retrieved another gift from the tree. 

The gift Dean was handed was perfectly wrapped in gold paper with a ribbon around it that took a fair minute or so just to get off. The long thin box was familiar in shape, and Dean had a good guess what he was opening even before he revealed the logo on the front of it. 

“You bought me a new Rolex?” He asked. He was delighted, of course, but a little confused. The one he still wore on his wrist was only a few years old, a silver design with green numerals, and had been given to him by Cas the Christmas after they’d got together, and he was very fond of it. 

“Well yeah.” Castiel nodded, as Dean lifted the lid to the box. “Yours is nice, but the green is like your eyes. I thought you might want something to remind you of me instead.” 

The watch Dean revealed was simply perfect. He stared in awe at the beautiful piece, made of platinum with a face that almost perfectly captured the sky blue colour of Castiel’s eyes. His jaw hung open a little as he regarded it, and his husband just watched him staring at it with a smile. 

“Turn it over.” Cas demanded after Dean had gone quiet for a few minutes. Dean shook out of his reverie, and glanced up curiously at his husband before carefully taking the watch from its display case and looking at the back. 

Tears welled in his eyes quicker than he could finish reading the words, and he was completely overcome with love for his husband. His face must have crumpled, because Cas shuffled closer and pulled him into his shoulder in support, holding him tightly. 

After a few seconds, Dean pulled back and glanced again at the inscription. 

‘C&D, for better, for worse, to have and to hold.’ 

He smiled then, eyes bouncing up to Castiel’s. He so badly wanted to kiss him. He badly wanted to tell him he loved him. He wanted to make love to him. But more than anything, he wanted to have him and hold him. Cas smiled back, and pulled him in close. 

 

*

 

Castiel would probably tell people that he’d helped to make dinner. In reality, Dean had made dinner, and Cas had helped to chop a few of the vegetables. Dean didn’t have the heart to tell him he’d even gotten that wrong, and that he’d wanted sliced carrots rather than batons and the roast potatoes probably should have been bigger than the 2cm chunks they ended up with. 

But Cas had looked proud of himself, and Dean had gone along with it, so together they’d eaten, toasting their marriage and their year’s achievements with champagne over dinner. 

Afterwards, they’d started to make calls. The time difference was such that their family in the US were behind, and so when they called Sam, Jess and Lily over FaceTime, they were pleased to see Lily was still opening some of her gifts. Dean was secretly pleased they hadn’t gone home to spend this year with them, because although he knew if they ever had a family in the future he’d have it all to come, he was grateful not to have the mess around him that Sam and Jess did today. 

And when they’d hung up, they’d called Charlie. It had been a while since they’d spoken to her together, although each of them maintained close contact with her individually. They’d laughed and she’d joked and wished them a happy Christmas, teased them about the gifts they’d bought and expressed her excitement to see them soon. She would be flying over in a few weeks time for an interview over here. She was managing to build a little fame of her own, and Dean was pleased because he knew how much she wanted it. He was also desperately excited to see her again. 

By the time that they’d hung up it was getting a little late in the day, and Dean’s head was sufficiently fuzzy from all of the egg nog and champagne he was drinking. Cas wasn’t far behind him either, if the red tinge to his cheeks were any indication. He had a good buzz going right about now, anyway. 

Cas was fetching some snacks from the kitchen while Dean set up a movie. True to form, they’d planned a Star Wars marathon (starting of course with the original trilogy) to celebrate both their love of the saga and their history with these movies. As he hit the buttons on the remote to configure the surround sound, his phone buzzed, and he checked Charlie’s message, a blush rising to his cheeks. 

‘Are you two seriously not back to fucking yet? You were all over each other! So much sexual tension. Go get him.’ 

Dean swallowed, hastily putting his phone away as Cas rounded the corner with a box of luxury chocolates and a bowl of chips. The actor also had another bottle of champagne tucked under his arm, and Dean beamed at the sight, trying to distract from the curiosity he’d seen in his husband’s eyes when he’d regarded his blush. 

“Thanks.” Dean said, popping open the champagne and pouring two new glasses. He handed one to Cas before starting on his own, downing it perhaps a little too quickly judging by the raised eyebrows Cas was giving him. “What? I’m thirsty.”

Castiel just smirked, and sipped at his own, settling back into the couch comfortably while the movie started to play. 

For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, they drank and they watched Star Wars. It was basically Dean’s perfect day. Just his husband for company, no messing around, just alcohol and good old classic movies. Sometime during the second movie they watched, the fifth episode, Cas had offered out his arm and Dean had cuddled into him without a second thought, pleased for the warmth and comfort as well as the contact. It felt natural, and it felt right. 

But the words Charlie had sent Dean started to play heavily on his mind. More and more so with every glass of champagne, every longing look between them, and he’d had to really stop himself from leaning in when Leia told Han Solo she loved him. Maybe Charlie was right, maybe they were ready, maybe it was time they let themselves be them again. 

By the time that Return of the Jedi was ending, Dean was entirely inebriated. Both with alcohol and with thoughts of getting his husband back. He pulled back as the credits rolled, and Cas watched him curiously until he lay down and made it clear that he wanted Cas to lie down with him too, facing each other on the couch. 

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and Dean could see it, could see how much his husband wanted them to be together again, could see the love and lust within his eyes, how much he wanted Dean to claim him. Dean was so done. He couldn’t take any more of this shit. He lifted his hand to the back of his husband’s neck, and with conviction he leaned in, pressing his lips against skin. 

Skin, because Castiel had moved at the last second, turned his head to the side and avoided his lips. Dean’s kiss collided with Castiel’s cheek and sent a horrible feeling plummeting to his stomach. 

Shit. Had he rushed this? Had he screwed it up? If Cas wasn’t ready for this then he most certainly wouldn’t appreciate Dean’s mouth still being attached to his cheek. Dean pulled back, looking away in the awkward, uncomfortable silence. He was unable to meet his husband’s eyes, didn’t want to see his disgusted look or anger, so instead, he stared down at the couch uncomfortably. 

It seemed like Cas didn’t know what to say, either. His hands remained around Dean’s back, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at Dean. Eventually, he let go, and pulled back up to sitting. “I think we should go to bed.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are actually, finally entering the home stretch of this story! I say that like there's not much left, but there's still a fair portion to publish and I still have a few chapters to write, re-write, and edit. 
> 
> But as always, hope you're enjoying, and thank you for all the support! Back Thursday!


	39. Auld Lang Syne

Considering the percentage of alcohol currently in his blood stream, Dean couldn’t sleep. They’d gone straight up to bed after Dean had tried to kiss Castiel, and although Cas had held him, the air had felt incredibly tense, so he’d pretended to fall asleep almost instantly just to lighten the atmosphere. 

It had taken the movie star a long time to drift off himself, and it was maybe an hour or so before Dean heard the soft snores that told of the actor’s rest. But the mechanic tossed and turned, rolling back and forth to try and get more comfortable or force his body to slow down, but his mind was the problem, desperately analysing every second of their last few weeks to try and figure out why he’d been rejected. 

He just couldn’t understand it. He’d been so sure they were on the same wavelength, that he’d seen the same desire his heart hurt with in his husband’s eyes. Hell, even Charlie had said she’d seen it, so why in hell would Cas turn him down? 

It wasn’t like he didn’t get it. Dean knew that what they’d been through was bad, that they’d needed time and space away from each other to get past the things they’d said and done. He knew that, but he’d been so sure his husband was ready. He was the one whose trust had been damaged, he was the victim, here. Was Cas seriously still beating himself up over it all? 

After maybe another thirty minutes of fruitless rolling and crazy thoughts, Dean dragged the covers away from him and pulled out of bed. He felt so confused, embarrassed, and he was upset that despite everything Cas _still_ wouldn’t take him back. Surely it should be him that got to call the shots, if anyone? He’d assumed Cas was waiting for him, and he’d waited until he was sure. Dean wandered downstairs after pulling on his robe, and he grabbed a glass of water to fend off what would probably be a fair hangover in the morning. 

He was still moping, wondering how in hell he’d ended up in this position when last Christmas they’d been so happy, when he had the brainwave that Charlie would still be up. He felt a wash of relief flow through him as he realised, and he dialled her number before he could think about it any further. 

“Hey!” Her cheerful voice called upon answering. “How come you’re still up? Did someone get lucky?” She asked, and he could almost hear her wink. 

“Uh… no. Quite far from it, in fact.” Dean said, and he could hear how deflated he sounded, so it was no surprise that her tone sounded darker as she replied. 

“What do you mean? What happened?” 

“I tried to take your advice.” Dean admitted, feeling embarrassed. “I made a move but… he rejected me. He moved at the last second and I ended up kissing his cheek.” 

“He rejected you? What… why would he do that?” She asked, and although it was reassuring to know that Charlie was as baffled by this turn of events as he was, he’d been hoping she’d be able to shed some light on his behaviour and put his mind to rest. 

“I’m not sure.” Dean said sadly. “Maybe he’s not ready yet.” 

“I just don’t believe that.” Charlie disagreed. “He looked ready to me. Did he say anything after?” 

“He just said we should go to bed, so we did.” 

“That’s… Dean I don’t get that at all. I mean, you’ve forgiven him, right? And you didn’t say anything to upset him or… nothing happened before?” 

“No.” Dean sighed. “We’d had a really nice day, or so I thought. And yeah, I’ve forgiven him.”

“Could it be taking longer for him to forgive himself? I mean, I know I said I thought he was ready and I still stand by that I just… I can’t think of another reason why he’d turn you down like that.” Charlie said thoughtfully. 

“I don’t know. He had a lot of stuff to work through I guess, but he’s seemed so much like his old self recently…” Dean trailed off, rubbing at his cheeks as he made an irritable, dissatisfied noise while thinking about their past year. “Don’t get me wrong, Charlie, it was hell while it was going on, really it was, but from what we’ve worked out since then, something needed to happen to shake us up. And he knows that, so he should be pleased we’ve worked it out. He should be ready if I am, shouldn’t he?” 

“What do you mean?” Charlie asked. Dean rarely talked deeply about all this, and she was clearly seizing the moment. Usually he’d give her a progress update rather than talk about the ins and outs of what actually went on between them back then. 

“He was hiding so much anger and resentment.” Dean admitted. “Stuff he’d never talked even to me about. Stuff he hid from his therapist back then because he was embarrassed to feel. He had all these issues with abandonment, left over from his adoption and from when I walked away from him. He was more of a mess than I ever realised. But I think in our early days I was too much of a mess to have noticed. Naomi, she thinks he started to go downhill when he realised I’d recovered and he hadn’t. That Chuck grabbed ahold of all of those emotions and used them to turn him. Nygard, our shrink, he said we’d been toxic and co-dependent, but we’ve worked through it. I thought we had, anyway.” 

“Then you’re right, it’s lucky something happened to bring it all out in the open, even if it was awful at the time.” Charlie responded in a sad voice. 

“I thought so too. I thought we were stronger now. I feel stronger now. He should too. But to think we’d thought about starting a family while all of that was under the surface. It doesn’t bear thinking about.” 

“I know.” Charlie agreed. “Dean, I think from what you’ve said, maybe he just needs a little more time. Even if you’re not thinking it right now, he looked head over heels in love with you when you called earlier, so I’m sure nothing’s changed. It takes time to work through these things, you know that.” 

“He’s had three months.” Dean pouted, but he knew she was probably right, and he sighed. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks, Charlie.” 

“Anytime.” She replied, and he could hear her smile. “Go and get some sleep, and maybe wait for him to make the next move.” She chuckled. 

“Like I’d try that again.” Dean smirked, but he nodded even though she couldn’t see. “Alright, goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Dean.” 

 

*

 

“Where are you taking me?” Dean laughed a week later, not fighting the blindfold off even though Cas could tell he so desperately wanted to. Castiel tugged on his hands to usher him another step forward, and gently, he followed. 

“Stop asking questions and just enjoy the surprise.” Cas muttered, but he was grinning. 

Since the first of their new dates in November, things had been progressing well, he thought. They really were back on track, and although he hadn’t said the words in months, Castiel felt so in love. No more were they bickering, and their communication had quite literally never been better. They could laugh and joke, and they would often stay up until the early hours just talking, about anything and everything. He could see in Dean’s eyes, it was obvious, how he felt the same. 

Dean had clearly tried to show him as much on Christmas Day. Cas had felt terrible moving his lips away at the last minute, but both he and his husband had been so damned drunk. He’d have hated for Dean to have moved too fast only to regret it the following morning. He had a long-earned reputation for getting horny when he was inebriated. The speed at which he’d fallen asleep after they’d moved up to bed only emphasised how drunk the mechanic had been, so he’d decided, no more drinking this side of the New Year.

Which brings them to New Year’s Eve. Always a disaster, forever a let down. Castiel had decided to change that, and make this one a little more special. His husband hadn’t acted any different since his rejection the other night, so it seemed to Cas that he still wanted him. He led Dean into the elevator, suppressing a laugh, but kept his husband’s hands in his own as they ascended to the rooftop. 

“Are we in an elevator?” Dean asked as it pinged, and the door opened, letting the cold December air wash over them both. Whilst guiding Dean, Castiel stepped out, taking in the beautiful view of the London skyline from above, and knew he’d pulled this out of the bag. He walked his husband a few steps further before pulling off his blindfold, and Dean looked truly surprised when he glanced around at the exclusive rooftop infinity pool that overlooked the Thames. From here, they’d have the perfect view of the fireworks that would explode as it chimed midnight, and it was the perfect location for Castiel to ask for his husband back. 

“This… it’s incredible.” Dean said, astounded. Being rich and famous had its perks, and Dean hadn’t grown tired of the things money could buy. 

A little while later and they were leaning over the edge of the pool, staring out at the gathered crowd next to the river. It was bizarre that they were cosy and warm in their swim shorts surrounded by heated water, when the public below were swaddled in huge jackets, hats and scarves. But it was perfect, as Dean had told him several times already. 

They’d swum around a bit, memories flooding back of the lake they would play in as kids, although the pool’s water didn’t taste nearly as bad as the lake’s had done when Dean splashed him right in the face. There was a jacuzzi to one end, that they lounged in for a while, playing with each other’s fingers with their entwined hands. It felt so right to be linked again. So natural. 

And before long, the crowd below them grew restless as the clock swung closer to midnight. They heard the countdown, the telling _ten, nine, eight_ … but the voices of the public were drowned out because all that they could see was each other’s eyes. 

As Big Ben began to chime to welcome in New Year’s Day, Cas surged forwards, and as soon as Dean realised what he was doing he pushed towards him and closed the distance. Their lips met with desperation and need, and the feeling was so intense that Castiel couldn’t be sure whether the flashes of light in his vision really were from the fireworks below or because of how amazing this kiss felt. He pulled Dean close, their bodies flush together under the water, hands grabbing anywhere they could, until he eventually had to gasp for air. He pulled back to breathe, and Dean was staring at him hungrily, like he could devour him in one gulp. His cock twitched at the sight, and he was taken once again by need, so his lips found Dean’s again magnetically. 

A particularly large firework boomed, and they broke quickly apart to watch the colours splay across the night sky. But they couldn’t keep their eyes off of each other, not for long anyway, and by the time Castiel had looked back at his husband, Dean was already staring at him, as devoted as he’d looked on their wedding day. 

“God, I love you.” Dean grinned, and Castiel dove straight back in for another kiss. 

“I love you too.” He replied, when he could bring himself to pull back. “So.” Kiss. “Fucking.” Kiss. Much.” Kiss. 

And they pulled slowly apart, just to watch the end of the fireworks and listen to the crowd below them singing Auld Lang Syne. It was one of those songs that Cas, and probably the vast majority of the world’s population, never knew the lyrics to, but he hummed the tune all the same as Dean beamed at him, foreheads together, lips inches apart, and as the song faded out below, his hum was stopped dead once again by Dean’s kisses. 

“I’ve missed you.” Dean whispered onto his lips. “I’ve missed having you like this.” 

Castiel beamed, hands tightly wrapped around Dean’s lower back, bright blue eyes boring into Dean’s green. “I know. I’ve missed you too.”

“Are we…” Dean began, obviously unsure how to continue. “Can things get back to normal, now? Are you good? Are _we_ good?” 

“I’m good.” Cas smiled. “We’re good. Dean, I want nothing more than to be your husband again, but properly this time, if you’ll let me.” 

Dean laughed, and kissed him again. “Thank god for that.” He muttered. 

“Thank you for everything.” Cas whispered. “Thank you for waiting it out by my side and not giving up even when I had.” 

“I needed the space too, Cas. It took me a long time to forgive you but once I understood you, it got easier. But as for waiting? I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Castiel pressed another heavy, heated kiss against Dean’s lips. “So you’re ok?” 

“I’m good, babe, if I’ve got you.” Dean replied, lips still reaching out for Castiel’s and peppering him with desperate kisses. 

“You’ve got me.” Cas beamed. “Here’s hoping 2018 will be better to us.” 

Dean laughed again, dropping his lips away for long enough to speak. “It can hardly be worse. How many more long lost family members can realistically show up out of the blue?” 

Castiel scoffed, his hands stroking Dean’s cheekbones and his jaw, marvelling at the beauty and purity of the man who somehow, despite everything, still loved him. “This will be _our_ year.” 

“Damn straight it will.” Dean grinned, and Castiel’s hand gravitated to the back of his neck, pulling him in close and pushing another wet kiss against his lips. Dean groaned involuntarily, and Cas smirked against him, licking against Dean’s mouth until his lips fell apart, and dipping into him with his tongue to explore him again. 

Compliant as ever, Dean kissed back, and Cas pulled him into his lap, squeezing every bit of him as tightly as he could, not willing to ever let go of him again. The delicious little noises that crept out of Dean’s lips as they moved sent all of Castiel’s blood south, and he groaned too, sending his right hand down to Dean’s crotch and applying gentle pressure to the hardness he felt there. 

He’d been so fucking worked up. For weeks now he’d been so frustrated. While their marriage had healed, their intensity had only increased. There had been so much unresolved sexual tension, so many stares and _so_ many moments that lead to nothing. He was being driven mad. All he could think about was burying himself inside Dean as quickly as possible, and from the breathy moans that delighted his ears, he knew Dean was on board. The only slight problem was the cameras. 

It took more willpower than Cas knew he had to break apart from Dean and pull his hand from his lap. His husband looked incredibly put out when Cas pulled back enough to meet his glazed, hooded eyes, but this was almost like their first time again, and Cas didn’t want to get caught any more than Dean did. With a gulp and an apologetic look, Cas stared Dean into agreement, his eyes explaining more than his words ever could. Dean nodded, eventually, so Cas stood, climbing out of the jacuzzi. He grabbed their towels, tossed one over to Dean as the below freezing cold smacked into their arousal-heated bodies. Dean followed him as he led the way back through the changing rooms and under the shower. 

Cas would’ve taken a quick fuck in the shower on any other day, he’d have normally jumped at the chance. But tonight it was different. He had to show Dean what he meant, had to make love to him in a more meaningful way than ever before. He kissed Dean under the spray of the shower, let his husband back him against the wall and grind up against him. But he had to get him back to the hotel, so he dragged himself away again despite the protesting grumbles leaving his husband’s lips. He dried himself off, ignoring his protesting cock that he’d have preferred not to redress, but he did pull his clothes back on while Dean looked on almost a little irritably. Once they were clothed, Cas pulled Dean closer again. 

“Cas, I need you.” Dean begged, but he didn’t have to ask for an explanation. 

“I know.” Cas whispered in response, but he refrained from kissing his husband again. When their lips met it was almost too difficult to stop. “I need to get you home.” 

“I don’t want to wait that long.” Dean protested, his hand dropping to Castiel’s crotch and squeezing while Cas inhaled sharply. There weren’t any cameras in the changing rooms, and the temptation was almost too much to bear. 

“It’ll be worth it.” Cas promised, taking his husband’s hand away from his cock and cementing it firmly between his fingers. “It won’t take long, come on.” He said, and pulled on Dean’s hand, ushering them towards the door. 

Their hired temps were waiting for them just outside, and they filtered down to the car, climbing into the back while the security entered the front. As they started moving, Cas flipped the switch to bring the screen down, and as soon as they were in private again Dean surged forwards, lips latching back onto Castiel’s. Cas was so fucking wound up it felt like he might just explode. Particularly when Dean grabbed his crotch again. 

“Oh god, fuck.” Dean breathed, when Cas dragged his kisses around Dean’s jaw, his tongue lapping out at his earlobe. 

“That’s the plan.” Cas whispered, eliciting a moan from his husband.

The journey back to the hotel seemed to take an insanely unfair amount of time. They probably should have predicted it given that it was city centre driving not long after midnight on New Year’s Day. Yet still, half an hour or more to travel only a few streets felt like some sort of insane punishment, particularly given the way Dean’s hands were pawing at his cock almost the entire time. 

But they did eventually make it back to the hotel. Keeping their hands to themselves in the elevator proved too much for Dean, and his lust-glazed eyes settled on Castiel’s right before his hand returned to the actor’s groin. Cas had seen it coming, though, and held his jacket in front of his body in disguise. 

As the elevator pinged open the guards led their way along the short corridor to the single door and swiped the keycard to enter, filtering off quickly into their own rooms. Dean’s hands were on Castiel’s shirt buttons almost as soon as the door had swung closed behind them, and Cas met his lips again with a desperation and need he hadn’t allowed himself to show until this point. As he let go, his mind snapped, and his hands found Dean’s chest, pushing him firmly backwards so that Dean stumbled into their bedroom. Cas pushed the door closed behind him, and shrugged his shirt off of his shoulders. 

Without pause, Dean surged forwards again, kissing Cas against the door and shamelessly grinding his hips forward. Cas let his hands find Dean’s ass and he encouraged the motion, rocking his pelvis just to hear those little noises his husband made. While Dean rutted against him, Castiel’s hand went to his husband’s shoulders and pushed off his flannel shirt before finding the hem of his tee. Dean dropped his kiss for only the split second it took to get the shirt over his head, before crashing their lips together again, and soon Castiel’s hands were working open the zipper on Dean’s jeans. 

As the mechanic gasped, the movie star pulled on the denim waistband, catching the elastic of his boxers as he ripped his husband naked in one swipe. Dean stepped out of his jeans and kicked them away, rutting his bare cock against the denim of Castiel’s while the actor hurriedly pulled on his own buttons. He shuffled his own down his legs and kicked out like Dean had, and then finally they were both free. The feeling of their cocks touching, rubbing together, was pure fucking bliss. 

Cas pushed forwards then, and spun Dean around, making it so that he was the one trapped against the door. His husband squirmed at the kisses Cas left on his neck, and his fingers trailed down the mechanic’s chest, pausing to rub over his hard nipples and eliciting a shiver. Cas dropped his hands lower as his kisses ran down Dean’s chest, grabbing onto Dean’s hips. He thrust his cock forward against Dean’s once again before he dropped to his knees, and by the time Castiel’s mouth was level with Dean’s heavy, dripping cock, Dean was whimpering. 

Flashing his eyes up, Cas locked his gaze onto Dean’s from under his thick lashes. Dean’s eyes were begging him, pleading with him to give him what he needed, and who was Cas to deny him that? Cas bent forward, placing a sloppy kiss at the base of Dean’s cock while his husband’s head fell back against the door. He kissed again on the other side, and kissed his way in a trail back up to the head where precome was oozing steadily. He kissed it away, darting his tongue out across the slit while Dean writhed, tasting the bitterness and licking his lips, making Dean gulp with desire. 

Rounding out his cheeks, Cas leant forward, sucking the cockhead into his mouth, tongue swirling around it experimentally as if it was his first time giving a blowjob. Dean was shaking, his hands scraping against the wooden door as if trying to find something to hold onto, and Cas knew instinctively that his husband wouldn’t last long if he kept this up. He sucked gently a few more times before pulling firmly back, and Dean was gasping for air when he let go. Cas nuzzled his head forward, pressing gentle kisses to his balls while Dean breathed away his pleasure, and after a few moments, Cas leant back on his knees. 

“Turn around.” He requested, and Dean nodded once before doing what he was instructed. Cas chewed on his lip at the sight of both his obedience and his beautifully toned ass, and he leant back up to press a kiss against his husband’s sacrum, soft nibbles leaving small pink marks as he refocused his efforts onto the buttocks. Dean’s breaths were heavy and laboured, and Cas heard the high catch in his steady whimper when he spread his cheeks and lapped his tongue out over his hole. 

Instinctively, Dean pushed his ass back against Castiel’s mouth, and as a reward to his neediness Cas licked out again, firmer this time, and when Dean moaned he forced it inside his tight heat. While Dean cried out again and again he licked out, exploring him with his tongue, before abruptly pulling away. Dean looked over his shoulder to meet his eyes, but Cas had scurried halfway across the room to his suitcase, hand dipping into a pocket to find lube. 

He stood only a moment later, clutching the small bottle in his fingers. With his other hand, he took Dean’s and pulled him onto the bed, Dean landing on his back with a bounce as Cas hurried on top of him, spreading his legs back open and diving his mouth once again between them. Dean writhed, heavy breaths sounding more and more impatient as Cas stretched him with his tongue, and after a few more moments Cas fumbled with the bottle in his hands, squeezing some lube onto his fingers. He withdrew his tongue, replacing it with two long, deft fingers, and Dean grunted as he was stretched. 

Castiel could see his husband’s struggle, could see how heavily his cock already pulsed and how much it dripped. He needed this to go all of the way, so he focused solely on the stretch, entirely avoiding Dean’s prostate despite the mechanic’s breathy pleas. He worked a third finger into his husband before he reconnected their eyes, and Dean looked blown. His eyes were wide and desperate, mouth hanging slightly open, and Castiel’s cock dripped at the sight. 

“ _Please_.” Dean begged, shaking from the tease, and as he stretched his fingers inside, Cas nodded, and purposefully crooked his hand to drag back along Dean’s prostate as he pulled them out. Dean gasped again, bucking his hips up from the pleasure, cock throbbing and wet, and Cas was done waiting. He pulled up on his knees, squeezed some more lube onto his hand before picking his own cock up, still fully hard despite its lack of attention, and moaned himself at finally getting some pleasure. He pumped a few times anyway, just because it felt good and Dean was practically drooling at the sight, but this wasn’t what either of them needed. He lined up, and looked directly at his husband. 

“Are you sure?” Cas asked then, desperately holding back from thrusting deep inside. 

“Yes.” Dean breathed, although Cas had expected some sort of demand. He inhaled before edging his cock past Dean’s rim, and the mechanic let out a steady groan as he was entered. Cas pushed in just past his head before slipping back again, that tight, wet heat so fucking tantalising. There was no way he was going to last as long as he wanted to. Cas breathed heavily, and thrust in again, deeper this time. He felt Dean shudder around him and heard the accompanying cry, knowing he’d perfected the angle. He pulled almost the entire way back out and pumped back in, watching his cock plunge into and out of his husband in disbelief. He moved his head then though, panting as he struggled to hold on, sweating from every possible area with the impossible heat that burned through him. His eyes found Dean’s, who stared at him with love and surprise, and how in hell had he forgotten how insane this felt? How had he managed without this sensation for three months? Dean looked to be thinking the same thing, as his lust-blown eyes rolled back with every thrust. Cas could feel his orgasm building, knew he wasn’t going to make it for much longer, and he picked up his speed, dragging his messy hand up to Dean’s cock and starting to pump in time with his thrusts. 

“Fuck, Cas, fuck. Fuck. I love you. Fuck.” Dean muttered his remaining vocabulary like it was a prayer.

It was heat, it was fire, and it burned but it felt so good. It was cold, it was ice, and the freeze brought relief. Dean cried out and his cock pulsed in Castiel’s hand before the actor had started to spill, and Dean’s come flew up to his chest as Cas seized and stuttered. He kept working his hand, pulling his husband through it, but as his own cock emptied inside Dean his hips froze, and he gasped while his body trembled out every drop. 

“Fuck.” Dean repeated, catching his breath as Cas stared at him, mouth agape as he came down from his high. But as soon as he was able, Cas smiled, and Dean reached his hands up, dragging him down on top of him. He placed soft kisses into Castiel’s hair, and Cas looked up at him happily, a new wave of tiredness and exhaustion washing through him. 

“I love you.” Cas said softly. 

Dean beamed. “I love you too.” 

 

*

 

When they woke up the following morning they were in just as much of a mess as the night before. Their chests were covered in dried come, the sheets were stained, and their clothes littered the floor. But neither cared. Dean opened his eyes slowly to find his husband staring at him like he was the most precious thing in the entire goddamned world. He couldn’t help but smile, though, even if he did side-eye Castiel like he’d gone mad. 

“Good morning, husband.” Cas whispered, and Dean laughed. He let his head roll to the side and welcomed the kiss that Cas left on his lips, his hand reaching out to his husband’s waist to bring them closer together. Not even their morning breath could ruin the moment. Fuck, he’d waited so long to have Castiel back like this. 

“Good morning.” Dean grinned, and his eyes flashed open to take in the sight of Castiel’s vibrant blue. His husband’s gaze was entirely unburdened, and it brought both sadness and relief to realise that it had been many years since Dean had seen the actor so at peace. He moved his leg, wincing at the unpleasantly sticky sensation around his ass, wishing they’d made the effort to clean up after themselves last night. Although he knew he wouldn’t have let go of Cas for anything at the time. 

“You alright?” Cas asked, obviously having noticed his discomfort. 

Dean wrinkled his nose, but he was smiling. “Just wish we’d cleaned up.” He said pointedly, and he watched as his husband’s cheeks flushed slightly pinker. But the actor did roll onto his back, leaning over to the bedside table and grabbing a tissue for him. Dean felt almost embarrassed as he wiped himself a little cleaner, but Cas paid it no mind. 

“I love you, Dean.” Cas said then, and as the mechanic met his eyes again his heart filled with unimaginable joy. 

“I love you too.” He replied, leaning forward to press another kiss against his husband’s perfect lips. Castiel grinned as they pulled apart, and his smile soon turned mischievous, but Dean’s was curious.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean asked, chewing down on the side of his lip in sudden vulnerability. He waited until Castiel had nodded before continuing. “Christmas, why did you… y’know, reject me?” 

“Reject you?” Cas asked, wide eyed with surprised. “Is that what you thought was happening?”

After Dean had given a shy nod, the actor went on. “Dean, I’d never reject you. I just… we were so drunk. Both of us.” He sighed, shaking his head gently. “I don’t think I can ever explain to you just how much you mean to me. Up until the night we got together, for my entire memorable life, I pined for you. I wanted you so fucking much. Loved you so fucking much. No one else has ever meant anywhere near as much to me and no one ever will. And before you say, _I know_ , I know that I came close to losing you and it was no one’s fault but my own. I know that. I know I fucked up and really, _really_ fucking badly at at that.” 

“So that’s why.” Cas paused, eyes failing to meet Dean’s out of embarrassment or sheer vulnerability, neither was sure any more. “I stopped you from kissing me because if you’d woken up the next morning and said it was a mistake, it would have broken me all over again. Because once again I was pining for you and if I fucked up _again?_ What if I lost you? I couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk _you_ over a drunk kiss. I love you too much for that. I owed you more than that.”

“Oh.” Dean said then, a pink tinge on his cheeks from how stupid he now felt. 

“I wasn’t even sure you’d remember it. I mean you quite literally passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow.” Cas smiled. 

“Hah.” Dean huffed an unconvincing laugh, but the realisation was dawning on his husband’s face already so he may as well explain himself now. “About that… I may have exaggerated how drunk I was, and then called Charlie in a panic.” 

“You…” Cas trailed off, a new look of horror on his face. “Oh god, Dean I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to upset you. I just wanted to make sure you were sure.” 

“Like I’d ever turn you down.” Dean teased, detracting from his embarrassment.

“Come on. We can forget about all of that stuff now.” Cas beamed, gesturing his head towards the bathroom. “Let’s shower, and then I’ll make you breakfast.” 

Dean laughed. “Cas, what have I told you about your cooking skills?” 

“I think you’ll be surprised.” Castiel winked. 

An hour later, after they’d had a particularly steamy shower that had resulted in Dean getting an amazing blowjob and Cas then fucking his face, the mechanic was sitting on their couch, eagerly awaiting the sound of the inevitable fire alarm while Cas prepared their breakfast. 

But for once, it didn’t come. And ten minutes later, Cas returned with a plate of pancakes that looked almost perfect. Dean raised his eyebrows at the sight, completely shocked that his beyond useless chef of a husband had actually cooked something that looked edible without any assistance. 

“I told you I’d make breakfast.” Cas grinned as he set down the plates on the table in front of them. They looked fucking good, if Dean was being honest. And they had bacon and maple syrup and Jesus, he was drooling. 

“Did you cheat? Are these shop bought?” Dean asked, completely seriously. 

Castiel pretended to look offended. “No!” He protested. “I’ve just been practicing.” 

“Seriously?” Dean just couldn’t believe that Cas, who even managed to burn toast, had produced something that looked so tasty.

“Seriously.” Cas rolled his eyes. “Now pick up your fork and tell me if they actually taste alright.” 

Dean did as he was told, cutting a slice out of the top pancake and putting it into his mouth with mock-hesitation just to wind Cas up. But when he’d closed his mouth and chewed, fuck, it was good. Almost as good as his, but definitely not quite, he’d insist. 

“Mmm, not bad.” He said as he swallowed, hastily cutting off another piece and shovelling it in as Cas grinned, tucking into his own. 

“See, some things do change.” Cas laughed. 

The phrase had Dean thinking, then. It wasn’t like it had been at the forefront of his mind, but that nagging question at the back made its way slowly to the front. Some things change. What if that had? He’d almost frozen on the spot, he knew, and it was obvious Cas had noticed how tense he’d become. It felt too soon to talk about this now, but suddenly it was burning, and it was going to get out with or without his permission. 

“Dean, you ok?” Cas asked curiously, addressing the sudden silence. 

Dean looked up to meet his husband’s eyes, noticing the cautious fear and panic within them. He probably had as much within his own. He forced himself to nod, and he tried to smile but he knew it looked false. 

“Cas, I… I need to ask. I know we’re only just back together but I guess we still need to keep talking.” He began, nervous, hesitant. “You said some things change. I need to know if you still feel the same about… Cas, do you still, y’know, do you still want a baby?” 

Castiel’s eyes widened at the question, and it was obviously the last thing he’d expected to come out of his husband’s mouth. Dean couldn’t help but notice how some of the colour drained from Cas’s cheeks, and his heart sank before his husband could speak while the air grew tenser. 

“What I want…” Cas started, voice careful, calculated. Dean could see he was acting. This was Castiel, not his Cas. “I just want us to be happy. If a baby isn’t what you want, then that’s fine. You’re more important to me—”

“—No, Cas, I think you misunderstood what I meant.” Dean interrupted, heart pounding with hope. “I still want a baby. I’m asking if you do. If you want a family, with me. Y’know, sometime.” 

Looking surprised, all Cas could do for a long moment was stare at him. “You would still trust me enough for that?” 

“Trust you? We both know that things got bad, really bad. But you’ve proven yourself in the last few months. It took you a long time but you did eventually listen and you got out. You’ve never made excuses, you accepted responsibility, and you got help. You didn’t rush me or anything. Cas, you dealt with it in a healthy and mature way, and I’m proud of you for that.” 

“I’m sure you’d have been prouder if none of it had happened.” Castiel pointed out. 

“Maybe, but you’ve never been healthier mentally than you are now, I can see that much. And the same goes for me. I won’t deny it sucked, it was awful, yeah, but we definitely weren’t in the best place before no matter what we thought. We needed something to happen so that we got help, something to test our strength and prove what we mean to each other.” Dean sighed, and Cas looked on at him with devotion. “Castiel, I love you, I trust you, and I’m ready when you are. So will you have a baby with me?” 

 

We two have paddled in the stream,  
From morning sun till dine;  
But seas between us broad have roared,  
Since **auld lang syne**.

 


	40. Tell Me, Do You Have Faith in Me?

“I wish you weren’t working today.” Castiel complained as Dean stepped out of the bathroom, dragging a shirt on over his muscled chest. The movie star was still in bed, the sheets tangled loosely around his naked body, entirely askew. Fucking three times in the last 24 hours would do that, Dean supposed. He grinned, looking at his pouting husband and wishing they had time to go a fourth round. 

“Why don’t you come with me?” He suggested. Castiel had a day off, and if he was honest, he was wishing he could spend the day with him just as much. Bringing him along to the nonprofit headquarters probably wouldn’t be fun, almost definitely wouldn’t be considering the urgent appeal he’d been asked to film today, but having the company would be nice. “We can spend the hour and a half in the car making out like teenagers.” 

A smirk crept its way onto Castiel’s lips. “We did plenty of making out as teenagers.” He reminded Dean with a wink. The actor paused for a moment in thought, before shrugging. “I guess I could come too. I’ll only be bored here. Haven’t I been there once before, anyway?” 

“You have.” Dean smiled. “The first time we’d come to the UK. My first commercial, just after Graham Norton. Although you did most of the talking, if I remember rightly.” 

His heart still hurt a little when he thought back to how much pain he was in at that time. He had wanted to get his secret off his chest, but he definitely hadn’t been prepared for what it would mean. How innocent he’d been, thinking that the press would accept the fact and leave him alone. He hadn’t been mentally ready to talk about it all the time, at all. But maybe jumping into the deep end like that had helped him get over it quicker. Having his relationship with Castiel made public back then had definitely helped.

“Is that the place that’s like a play centre? That day when I arrived you were talking to that boy that had got out because he’d watched your interview.” Cas recalled. 

“Yeah, it’s there.” Dean said slowly, recalling the conversation he’d had with the young kid called Jake, and wondering what had become of him. He made a mental note to ask Teresa when they arrived. 

“Does that same woman still run the place?” Cas wondered aloud, as if reading his mind. “She was nice, if I remember.” 

“Teresa?” Dean asked. “Yeah, she’s still there, although I think she’s been promoted. Come with me, at the very least you can cheer up some kids with a surprise visit from Orry. Practice your parenting skills.” He winked. 

“Fine, but they’ll have to make do with Castiel, I haven’t got any costumes or props.” Castiel laughed. “I can’t believe you still want a baby.” 

“Babe, it still hasn’t even sunk in for me that someone like _you_ asked _me_ to marry you.” Dean grinned. 

After a couple of hours had passed, they were arriving at the headquarters, lips swollen and pink where they had, in fact, made out like teenagers throughout the journey, to Crowley’s misfortune. Kevin had called shotgun, and Crowley had been stuck in the back with them. As they stepped out of the car, Dean took Castiel’s hand in his own once again, shooting his husband a smile as they walked up to the front entrance, Crowley rolling his eyes behind them while Kevin laughed. 

Teresa greeted them with wide smiles as they arrived, and Dean shook the hand that she offered before she turned to his husband, shaking his hand too, pleasantly surprised by his attendance. Dean secretly loved when Castiel joined him in coming to places like this, because he felt a bit more normal when everyone was staring in awe at his husband. Without Cas there, he was the famous one, and although day by day he got more used to it, it still felt weird and undeserved that people stared at him and acted differently around him. But his husband however, deserved every ounce of the attention he got, had earned his fame with his ridiculous talent and relentless hard work. 

They were filing through the play area to the office when Dean saw him. The raven black hair and bright blue eyes that had caught his eye in the first place were the same as ever. He stopped in his tracks, watching as the teenage boy beamed, smiling at a younger kid he was talking to. It was obvious, even from this far away, that while Dean had been healing, Jake had too. He no longer held the same sadness in his muscles, no longer had desperation and fear in his eyes. 

Castiel had made it only a few feet further before noticing that his husband had stopped walking, and he followed Dean’s gaze over to the young man, who shared his eye colour and hair colour. Dean glanced quickly back at the others, catching his husband’s gaze and apologising wordlessly as he walked forward, grabbing Jake’s attention as the kid looked up to meet his eyes. 

“Dean?” Jake asked, lips quirking up in a surprised smile. 

“Hey, Jake.” Dean replied as he reached him, and he suddenly felt a bit awkward because he didn’t know whether to hug the kid or shake his hand, but Castiel had followed, reaching his side before he could decide, so he did neither. “It’s good to see you’re doing alright.” 

“Yeah.” Jake said slowly, breathing steadily. His expression turned contemplative as he thought back to when they’d first met, a look that made him seem older than his years. “I’m good, actually.” 

“I’m glad.” Dean said, with a genuine smile. “Really pleased for you. What’s… what’s been happening?” 

“Uh… well, they put my mom in prison, and I got moved closer to where I was from so I could still see my friends.” Jake smiled. “I think that was because of you. Teresa said you’d asked…” He trailed off. 

“I know how important friends are.” Dean shrugged, shooting his husband a grateful glance. 

“And I have a girlfriend now.” Jake added, and he looked so pleased with himself that Dean couldn’t help but be happy for the kid. They chatted for a few more minutes, and not once did Dean spot the pain behind Jake’s eyes that had been there before. It was validating, that the work he’d done had actually been helping, that he’d made a difference to someone’s life. He could feel his heart patching itself up with every person that he saved. 

As they stepped away from him a short while later, Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s middle. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered. 

But once they’d been settled in the glass-walled office for a few minutes, discussing the newest appeal and what Dean would be saying to the cameras, Castiel’s face had fallen. They’d been told  about a young girl called Lacey, whose story made Dean’s look like a walk in the fucking park. Dean would be narrating it, asking for the support of the public. That, Castiel could just about cope with. But Dean watched his husband’s face when they were shown the images of the girl’s wounds, and considering the things they’d been through in their lives, this seemed to prove too much. 

The warning signs had been there, and Dean was left unsurprised when Castiel rose from his chair and left the office. He shot Teresa a sad glance as he stood to follow him, and she sighed as she packed the images away, leaving him to chase after his husband. 

He could see Cas walking away at the side of the room, and although he called out after him and sped up a little, his husband continued to stride forwards. He upped his pace, catching him just as Cas made it to the door, and ushered him through it so they had a little privacy at least. His husband wasn’t crying, but Castiel looked shocked and horrified and Dean had to take a second to remind himself that the actor wasn’t used to seeing these things like he was, that even back then he’d only been privy to a small percentage of the wounds he’d acquired. 

When Cas finally stopped and backed up against a wall, Dean closed in on him, a hand going to his cheek in support, the other on his shoulder. It was obviously hitting harder since Cas had started thinking about children of his own. 

“It’s ok, Cas, she’s alright, she got out, yeah?” He whispered, soothing. 

“None of this is _alright_ , Dean.” Cas muttered, almost angry. “Why would someone do that to her?” 

“Why does anyone do it?” Dean said in response, sighing deeply. “That’s why I’m doing this work, baby. It’s terrible, yeah, but now she’s safe, and she’s safe because of us and the things we’ve done. She’s safe because you’ve helped me to heal enough to help her.” 

“She’s just a child.” 

“So was I. So was Luke.” Dean pointed out, but it was a bad idea, because now there were tears bubbling in Castiel’s eyes. “I can’t tell you why anyone would hurt them, but I can tell you that we _never_ will, and all I’ll ever want to do is help these kids.” He promised. 

“I know.” Cas whispered, rubbing at his eyes before the tears could swell over. 

Dean’s fingers went to the hem of his t-shirt, and he lifted up the fabric just up to his navel. “Wounds heal, Cas, I’ve healed, and so will she.”

 

*

 

It had been up there in the best weeks of Dean’s life, finally having his husband back. Now that they were living together harmoniously again, things seemed like they couldn’t get much better.

They’d truly never been closer, and Dean hadn’t thought it possible but if anything, their relationship was better now than it ever had been. They’d always had this unspoken connection, this intense bond that coursed through their veins, but they’d always had the ability to close it down, too. Until now, at least. He felt so strong, stood so tall with Castiel at his side. They were together, and invincible. 

Things were perfect. A word neither of them used lightly, but in this instance was entirely true. Late last night they’d made the journey back to the capital, arriving in London long after the sun had set and given way to a beautiful full moon. They’d returned to meet their friend. Charlie was coming over to attend an interview she’d been invited to. Dean was pleased for her, because he knew that she wanted to be up there in the A-List with them, and this was her break. 

First thing this morning, Castiel had snuck under the covers and blown him. Dean couldn’t remember ever having woken up in a better way than with his cock in his husband’s mouth. He’d repaid the favour, then, and now they were lying under the thick sheets, tangled intricately together, sweaty and panting. 

“If I could pick a way to wake up every day for the rest of my life, that would be it.” Dean laughed, swallowing in air. 

Castiel just smirked, pressing his lips once again against his husband’s skin, making Dean shiver. “I’m pretty sure that can be arranged.”

Dean groaned at the thought, because even though his cock couldn’t get hard again yet it still twitched and it sent a spasm up his spine. 

“Dean?” Cas asked, and his voice was suddenly far more nervous. Dean turned his head to meet his eyes. “When Charlie’s here… can we… y’know… can we talk to her?” 

The question took him aback, if he was honest. He wasn’t quite expecting Cas to want that, not yet anyway, and he hadn’t been prepared for it. He knew he’d been the one to ask for it to be back on the cards, and god knows he wanted it with all his heart, but it was still too soon, surely? 

“I… don’t you think we should wait a little longer?” Dean asked gently. 

“No, I don’t.” Cas said confidently in response, and Dean sucked in a breath. “Things cannot possibly get worse than they have been recently, and we’ve coped. We’ve managed. We’re still here, together. I promise you I’m ok. I am. And I’d be willing to bet that you are, that _we_ are. And anyway, we’ve got at _least_ another nine months to wait even after we’ve started this fucking process. I just want to get the ball rolling. If we feel like we need it we can get more therapy, but I want this Dean, as much as you do, and I’m fed up of waiting.”

The argument might not have been a particularly strong one, but Dean believed in Castiel’s strength, especially now that Cas did, too. 

“Ok.” He said, beaming. 

 

*

 

Dean was buzzing after Castiel’s request that morning. It seemed like they’d talked about it so long ago— how long was it? Eight, nine months? — that it was never going to happen, and he’d had the thought caged up for so long that it felt weird freeing it again, and letting his mind run wild with excitement. 

They were going to have a baby. Like, _actually_ going to have a baby. 

He just had to buck up the nerve to ask Charlie about it, first. She’d arrived late this afternoon, having caught a night flight out like they had and suffered the same stupid time scheduling. Who planned this, anyway? But having her here to join them just added to his pleasure, and overall he was having the time of his life. Having been his personal agony aunt for the last few months over the phone, she was certainly relieved to see that they were back on normal terms, and she was joining in with the teasing and poking fun, ganging up with Dean to rip the shit out of Castiel’s Oscar nominated movie. _It was pretty bad, Cas._ She’d joked.

“That makes about as much sense as the movie.” Dean teased, after Cas had tried to defend it. Dean knew that it had been critically acclaimed and actually, his husband was going to win a few more awards to add to their overflowing cabinet back home, so he felt like he could tease him and get away with it. 

“Shut up.” Castiel said, rolling his eyes with a playful pout on his lips. Whenever Dean saw those lips purse like that he just wanted to kiss them, his husband looked sexy when he was stropping. 

But instead, because obviously with Charlie there, he didn’t want things getting heated, he prodded him with his foot. They were sat on opposite ends of one couch, Dean’s legs splayed out with his feet in Cas’s lap, while Cas sat up properly. Charlie was on the couch next to them, lounged out too, and lucky for them Naomi and the others had left them alone for the evening. The privacy was as nice as the company. 

At the nudge, Cas clamped a hand down on Dean’s foot, tickling his skin with his fingertips while Dean writhed and complained. For all the backup Charlie had been giving him, she switched sides pretty quick as she started to laugh at his discomfort. 

“Stop! Please!” Dean begged, squirming as he tried to drag his leg back away from his husband, but he was grinning broadly, too. He glanced over to Charlie for support, but she was making no move to rescue him. 

“I’m sorry Dean, but he’s got you there.” She laughed. 

But the assault didn’t last much longer, and Cas was creased up with laughter by the time Dean had ripped his feet away from his husband and was catching his breath. He was chuckling too, and completely, head over heels in love with the sound of Castiel’s happiness, so he’d forgiven him for the attack already. He looked back up to meet those bright blue eyes that watched him with love and amusement, and Cas held his gaze, letting his look turn pointed after a few moments. 

Did he want to do this _now?_ Dean’s brow furrowed just the slightest amount, and Cas raised his eyebrows a little in response, his expression asking the question. If he was being honest, even though he’d agreed and he had faith in his husband, he still had a nagging little doubt at the back of his mind that it might be too soon. He knew Cas was right, he knew that it would be months before they actually became parents, and he was just as desperate to get the ball rolling. He just hoped it wasn’t going to be Castiel’s downfall. 

“Charlie?” Cas said, sounding suddenly a little nervous when Dean finally smiled in response and nodded his head. Dean’s heart raced as their friend eyed them with a curious expression. 

“Yeah?” She replied, a gentle smile on her lips. Dean didn’t know where to look, and his eyes darted nervously between his husband and his best friend, his breathing suddenly heavy. 

Castiel reached out for his hand before he spoke again, and Dean tangled his fingers in Castiel’s gratefully. “We’ve talked about it… and we’re ready.” Cas breathed. “We want to start a family.” 

The smile on Charlie’s lips remained, but her eyes widened in surprise, her brows rising with shock. “Oh.” She said simply, as if she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Dean had the sudden dark thought that maybe she’d changed her mind, that she didn’t want to do this for them any more, but she spoke again before he could run wild with it. 

“I… that’s great.” She continued, but there was more to add and Dean could read her thoughts as she tried to process them in a sensitive manner. “But… really? Now? Are you sure it’s not… y’know, a bit soon?” 

“No… it’s… we’re fine. I’m fine.” Cas said in response, sounding a little frustrated. He glanced to Dean for support, and Dean smiled, squeezing his hand. 

“I believe him.” Dean suddenly interjected, drawing Charlie’s attention away from the movie star. He had faith in Castiel’s strength now like he did his own. And maybe it would do more harm than good to contradict him. “Neither of us are ever going to be perfect, but we’ve got each other, and that’s what matters. I’m not letting anything or anyone come between us, ever again.”

Castiel held his gaze, smiling gratefully at his husband’s trust and faith. 

“Besides.” Dean continued, keeping his eyes locked on Castiel’s. He let his expression turn into a smirk, and at the sight of it Cas narrowed his eyes. “This whole thing will take months. By the time it’s actually happening… I’ll make sure he’s up to scratch.” 

At the comment, Cas rolled his eyes, but he was beaming. By the time that Dean had torn his gaze away from the husband he loved so fucking much it was almost unbearable, Charlie was watching them with a fond expression, and that doubt had faded away. She smiled, catching his eye, and she shrugged. 

“Alright, cool.” She grinned. “So… how do we go about putting your baby in me?” 

“I dunno.” Dean shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to start looking into it.” 

He glanced back over at Castiel, who was looking a bit shifty and had gone very quiet, his cheeks tinging pink as they both stared at him curiously. 

“I may have already looked into it.” Cas admitted, embarrassed. Dean raised his eyebrows, but he was smiling too. He should have known Cas would have already done his research. He was so meticulous and organised about most things, and he’d wanted this for a lot longer than Dean had. “I… uhm. We just need to make an appointment at the clinic. It’s… there’s one back home that other people have used. They take some preliminary details, start looking for an egg donor…” 

“By other people, I assume you mean other celebrities? Call them, then. It’s the middle of the day back home.” Charlie smiled. 

“And you’re sure you’re still happy to do this?” Cas checked, and Charlie rolled her eyes. 

“Of course, you idiot. I offered.” 

Cas waited for a nod from Dean before he went ahead and looked for the number for the clinic, and before they knew it they had an appointment booked for two weeks time. Dean felt really weird. He was ecstatic, but nervous at the same time. This was making it so real. It was hard to believe, after all this time, that it was actually going to happen. The other issue, was that the appointment they’d booked was over a weekend while they were supposed to still be in the UK. They’d have to fly back for a few days. The flight — for once — wasn’t the problem. Getting around Naomi however, was. 

“I don’t want to tell her until it’s definitely happening.” Castiel said later, when they were tucked in bed together. “I don’t want her getting involved. I just want it between us. I _know_ we’ll have to tell her before everyone else but… I don't know. This could all take ages. We don’t even know if it will work, you know? Charlie might not be fertile! _I_ might not be fertile.” 

The way his husband was chewing his lip made it obvious to Dean that he was worrying about it, and so he rolled onto his front, looking Castiel directly in the eye. “I didn’t think you were supposed to start worrying about that stuff until you’ve tried a few times.” He smiled. “Cas, I wouldn’t think any less of you, you know that, right?” 

Cas sighed, looking at his hands as he fidgeted with his fingers. “I know. I just, I don’t even know where this is coming from.” He said softly. 

“Forget it, and get excited instead, please?” Dean pleaded. “Cas, we’re gunna have a baby.” 

“Yeah.” Cas breathed, lips curling into a smile. “We are.” 

 

*

 

For someone with minimal interview experience, Charlie was doing great, he had to admit. It was obvious how much she’d wanted this for a while, now, and so he was pleased that she was finally getting some sort of fame and recognition. They were stood backstage, his arm around Dean’s back, watching the interview from a small screen as it was recorded. 

Having his marriage back was the best feeling in the world. Apart from when he’d been working, he’d hardly let go of Dean, holding him close whenever possible. He never wanted to know what it was like to be without him again. Castiel smiled sadly as that thought crossed his mind, and once again that wash of relief that he hadn’t lost him, even if he’d come pretty damned close, flooded through him. 

As if sensing it, or perhaps just hearing Castiel’s sigh, Dean leant his head against his husband’s, nuzzling his forehead into Cas’s temple, a smile firmly on his lips. On screen, Charlie was discussing her love life, or currently, the lack thereof, and at her joke Dean let out a chuckle. The sound of his husband laughing was his favourite, and Cas turned his neck to press their lips gently together. 

“But you do of course have many famous friends, now.” The interviewer, a blonde woman called Jenny who Dean had sat in front of once a couple of years ago, commented. 

“I do.” Charlie agreed. “It’s all down to Dean and Castiel, obviously.” 

As Cas pulled his head back to the screen at the mention of their names he caught sight of the smile on Jenny’s lips, because obviously she’d been waiting for the subject of them to come up. Charlie had been prepared for the eventuality, he knew, considering they were the reason she was beginning to make a name for herself now. 

“How are they getting on?” Jenny asked, smiling like she really, truly cared. “After everything that’s happened recently, it must have been tough for them?” 

“They’re doing ok, yeah.” Charlie beamed, proud. “They hardly had a good 2017, but they’ve got each other and if anything, I think it’s just reminded them of how important they are to each other.” 

Jenny let out a light chuckle, like she was pleased for Cas and his husband. “So are they really as loved up as they seem, then?” 

Charlie grinned, but soon stuck her tongue out like she was pretending to vomit. “Yes.” She complained, while the audience were chuckling. “They’re truly sickening. I’ve never seen two people more in love.” 

“So you were Dean’s friend first, right?” Jenny said, although she was still laughing about Charlie’s comment. “And you met Castiel through him?” 

Cas braced himself. Why did interviewers love examining the past so much? At his side, Dean kissed his temple again, humming happily at their close contact, and although he wished the press would stop pulling their relationship apart again, he knew that it really didn’t matter, because nothing was ever going to come between them again. 

“Yeah.” Charlie nodded. That blue camisole really suited her, Cas had to admit, Naomi had been right there. “I met Dean through work, actually. He blew up his computer and came to me, and we just got on instantly. He was different back then. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me saying. He was always a lot more distant, and it was obvious that something had happened to him before I’d met him but I never knew what. It sounds corny but it really was like a piece of him was missing, like something about him wasn’t quite right. He had regular panic attacks and his mood was a lot more… volatile, I guess.” 

“Then, a few years later, at his brother Sam’s wedding, we walked into the rehearsal dinner together and he ran straight back out of the room when he spotted Castiel. I chased him down, didn’t know what to do with him at all. He was awful that night, the lowest I’d ever seen him. It didn’t take long for me to realise that whatever had happened to him, Castiel had been somehow involved.” 

“It must have been strange for you, realising your friend knew a big Hollywood star but had never told you?” Jenny was nodding thoughtfully as the conversation progressed, and Castiel watched as Charlie’s lips broke out into a smile. Somewhere during her story he’d grabbed Dean even closer, and their bodies were pressed firmly against each other’s now. 

“It was even stranger when I realised he was in love with him.” Charlie laughed. “To think I thought he was straight. But yeah, it was a big shock! And I’d been friends with Sam and Jess too, but they’d never mentioned once that they knew Castiel or that they were friends. If it had been me everyone would have known. I guess that kinda is me, here now talking about them.” She paused to chuckle. “I guess it was because I’d met them through Dean, and he was normally there when we hung out. But Castiel isn’t half as scary as he looks.” She laughed again. “He’s a big softie really.” 

“Was it obvious pretty quickly that they were in love with each other?” Jenny questioned, and backstage, Dean kissed Cas again. 

“Fairly quickly, yeah.” Charlie paused in thought. “Like I said before, it was like Dean was missing a piece of himself. Apparently that first night they had a big talk and sorted everything out between them. Dean confessed and apologised and, whatever, by the next day, he was a different person. He was still Dean, still mixed up and confused and scared, but he was… _whole_. I can’t really describe it, but when he was with Castiel at that wedding and they were talking and joking, it looked like they’d never been apart. I’ve never seen two people gravitate towards each other so strongly. Dean wouldn’t tell me what they’d fallen out over all those years ago so it was difficult to figure them both out, but it was obvious Castiel loved him. Dean, he was a little more tricky to work out, but I don’t think he’d truly accepted by that point that he loved Cas too.” 

“So how did they actually end up sorting themselves out and getting together?” Jenny asked curiously. 

Charlie paused, because she was aware that this particular story wasn’t common knowledge, and clearly she was trying to decide whether it should remain a secret. Cas met his husband’s eyes, but Dean seemed to be paying very little attention to Charlie, his eyes dark, full of lust, and completely focused on Castiel. 

“I wish we had our own dressing room right now.” Dean whispered, voice heavy and deep. Castiel smirked, suddenly realising he didn’t care what happened on stage because he had the only important person in the world in his arms. 

“We have our own hotel room.” Cas whispered in response, pulling Dean’s body closer and feeling his husband’s cock twitch against his hip. “And I intend to make very good use of it tonight.”  

Meanwhile, on stage, Charlie had begun to answer. “After Castiel had come out, or been made to come out, Dean went to stay with him for a while. Not that he actually ever came back. I think a few… things… happened in that month or so, and they were so bad at talking to each other back then that they’d both got it into their heads that the other didn’t feel the same. Anyway, Cas had a party, and one thing led to another between them, and then afterwards Dean came to find me, really upset, and Cas came after him. They had a big argument before I managed to get Castiel to confess how he felt, but yeah, they’ve been inseparable ever since.” 

Jenny was smiling at the thought and at the new information she’d managed to get out of her. “And the rest is history.” 

“Yep, the rest is history.” Charlie agreed. 

“So.” Jenny said then, and Charlie narrowed her eyes. Backstage, Cas hadn’t even noticed, because his tongue was somewhere down Dean’s throat and his husband was pulled as close to him as physically possible. “I’m told they might be here tonight?” 

“They’re backstage somewhere, yeah.” Charlie nodded, grinning. Unbeknownst to the movie star and his husband, a cameraman tracked backstage then, walking through the halls for a few moments until he found them, still pressed against each other and kissing passionately. 

It was the loud cheers and whoops from the audience that made Castiel reluctantly break apart from his husband. He turned his head to look straight into the camera, expression changing instantly to one of embarrassment as his cheeks reddened, while Dean just burst out laughing at his side, keeping his hips turned firmly into Cas to hide the boner in his jeans.

 

Taste,

Of the good life, can you keep pace can you,

Ride shotgun in the fast lane,

With your eyes wide shut,

**Tell me do you have faith in me?**


	41. Falling Deeper in Love With You

I’ll be taking my time, spending my life, 

**Falling deeper in love with you,**

So tell me that you love me too.

 

“Have you made a decision as to which one of you two will be the biological father?” The kind hearted doctor with long dark hair smiled, readjusting her thick rimmed glasses on her nose. Dean looked over to his husband, who shifted a little uncomfortably. They’d had yet another conversation about this on the plane on the way here. Dean had always told Cas that he didn’t want John’s genetics passed on, but when he gave that same argument once again, Castiel had thrown Chuck into the equation. It was true that Dean wasn’t keen on having any of Chuck in their baby, either, but when the bottom had fallen out of that argument and they were left on a level field, he’d fallen back on his other argument, passing on the talent, and eventually, Cas had relented. 

“Me.” Castiel said, and he chewed his lip while Dean watched him. 

“Great.” The doctor — Palmer — smiled, copying down his date of birth as he had done for Charlie. “And so, the same question for you, are you aware of any genetic conditions that might be passed on?” 

“I… uh… I’m adopted.” Castiel stuttered, because obviously he’d never thought to ask Chuck about his family’s medical history. 

“That’s ok, we’ll do screening anyway, it was just so we could be prepared if you knew of anything.” She explained. Dean sighed inwardly, because he knew Cas was anxious about this already and he didn’t feel like it was helping matters. He knew he’d be getting even more worked up wondering whether Chuck had any chronic conditions, other than congenital asshole, of course. 

“But you don’t suffer from any medical conditions yourself?” She asked, and his husband shook his head with wide eyes. 

“Great, so I think that’s all there is to it.” Palmer beamed. Dean shuffled in his chair, his foot shuffling with excitement and anticipation. It would be about a week until they’d procured the donor egg. One week to go until their first attempt. Charlie looked way too chilled in her chair next to him, arms folded casually as she reclined back with a smile on her lips. She caught his eye and winked. 

“Sounds good.” Dean breathed, grateful that so far everything was going smoothly. He could feel how tense Castiel was at his side, knew that his husband was nervous and anxious and bracing himself in case something went wrong, so he put a hand on his back in support. 

“The only other thing we need to discuss is getting your sample, Castiel.” Palmer added, looking directly at the movie star. “So we’ll need it before our next appointment with Charlie, of course.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Cas nodded, still looking like a rabbit in headlights. Dean had to resist the urge to join Charlie in chuckling as the doctor pulled out a stupid little pot and put it on the table in front of his husband, because Cas had started blushing already as he hid it away quickly inside his jacket. 

“Cas?” Dean said, drawing the actor’s attention back to him. He could see his husband wasn’t thinking quite straight, that his embarrassment and anxiety was messing up his brain somewhat. “We go back to England tomorrow. You’re gunna have to do this today.” 

Dean watched as Castiel’s cheeks paled, but his husband sucked in a breath and nodded. “Right, yeah, of course.” 

 

*

 

Ten or so minutes later and Dean was sat with Charlie in the waiting room, feeling really pretty weird about the knowledge that his husband was somewhere in the building trying to get off without him. Charlie could quite obviously sense his discomfort, too, and she was doing a pretty piss poor job at not laughing about it. 

“This has _got_ to be the weirdest situation I’ve ever been in.” She chuckled, and Dean folded his arms even tighter across his chest. “We’re literally sat here waiting for Cas to bash one out, for spunk they’re gunna put inside me. Things don’t get stranger than that.” 

At the description, Dean couldn’t help but laugh too, even if he did feel more uncomfortable than ever. “Yeah, you’re not making it sound any better.” He gulped. 

Charlie sighed, rubbing her pink cheeks with the ball of her hand. She turned to meet Dean’s eyes again. “He _is_ alright, isn’t he? He’s been really uptight today. I know he’s nervous, but I just can’t help but wonder if he’s not rushing this.” 

“I believe he’s ok.” Dean said softly, wishing he had as much confidence as he sounded like he did. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s not perfect, but he’s been a hell of a lot worse, we both have.” He paused. “He wants this, more than you know.” 

The red head smiled. “He’ll be a great father. You will be, too.” 

“Thanks, Charlie.” Dean beamed. 

“You realise he isn’t gunna be able to get through this bit alone though, right?” She said a moment later, echoing Dean’s own mind. He knew that in the frame of mind his husband had entered that room in, they’d be here until tomorrow before he’d chilled out enough to have some _alone time_. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m just waiting for him to ask.” 

They didn’t have to wait too much longer. About another ten minutes passed before Dean’s cell phone buzzed, and he checked the plea before he shot Charlie a smile and an apology, sneaking suspiciously down the corridor, feeling like there were a hundred eyes on him as he reached the weird little room intended for sample collection. It was the strangest feeling in the world. He knocked once, and Castiel’s blue eyes flashed at the crack of the door as he pulled it open, before yanking it back all of the way to allow Dean inside. 

And well, it was hardly a surprise that Cas was having trouble in here. Dean couldn’t help but let out a laugh. The small room was painted a vibrant, seductive purple, was filled with erotic art which mostly consisted of pert breasts and rounded bottoms. A TV in one corner was playing a porn channel, a woman bouncing up and down on some guy’s cock. 

Cas had rummaged through a pile of magazines until he found one suited to his orientation, but judging by the panic in his eyes and the shaking of his hands he was just too uptight right now. Dean looked at his husband, and he could see he’d tried. His hair was messy — messier than usual — and his shirt had been pulled out of his slacks, his button and zipper undone already, but the bulge was missing. With a swallow, Dean took two steps towards his husband, closing the gap between their bodies, and threw his arms around his back, pulling him in close. 

He felt Cas relax around him as he melted into his touch, and when he let him go, he took his hand, tugging slightly as he sat down on an uncomfortable, pink leather couch while Cas joined him. 

“I’m sorry.” Cas began to apologise. “I tried… I just… I—”

“—It’s fine, Cas.” Dean whispered, cupping his husband’s cheek with his fingers. His lips curled up in a smirk. “This room is hardly helping, either.” 

Castiel huffed a laugh, gesturing over to an erotic statue. “I did try pretending that ass belonged to you.” He grinned. “But it was way too small.” 

“You saying I’ve got a big butt?” Dean pretended to be offended, but he couldn’t keep the grin off of his face. Cas just rolled his eyes, and Dean let his expression soften. “Are you ok?” He asked. 

“Yeah.” Cas breathed. “But it… I don’t know, I’m just really anxious.” 

Dean nodded. “I know.” He said softly, and his heart quickened as he faced his doubts. It wasn’t like he could ignore it. If there was an issue, he had to find it now rather than later. “I am too. But you’re not… you’re not having second thoughts?” 

“No!” Cas shook his head. “Not at all. I just want this to be perfect. It’s already weird enough having Charlie so involved. It’s like… I know if you were with a girl that things would be so different for you, that you’d just have some fantastic sex and she’d get pregnant. It’s part of the reason why I don’t want anyone else to know. I want to try and keep it intimate.” 

“Cas.” Dean groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “You _have_ to stop comparing yourself with girls, ok? You need to get it into your thick skull that I don’t _want_ that. And sure, it’d be great if you and me could make a baby on our own, but I’m not gunna evolve a womb any time soon, so we gotta make do. This will be as intimate as we make it.” 

“I… ugh. That wasn’t what I meant. I know you don’t want that. I know you want me, but I still want to make this experience perfect for you.” 

“This is because it’s not _my_ baby, right? That’s why you’re being so weird about this? You want to try and involve me?” Dean sucked in a breath, a little irritated. He could point out that it had been at his own demand that their children not inherit any of his own genetics.

Castiel chewed his lip like he’d been caught red handed. 

“This will be my baby as much as yours. He or she will be part of you and I’ll love them because of it.”

“I know that.” Castiel whispered, and Dean felt a little guilty about feeling annoyed. He glanced up at the TV, where lewd sounds were escaping the mouth of a mostly plastic young blonde woman. Once upon a time he’d have found that mildly attractive, but now he had everything he could ever want right here. 

“You want this to be intimate?” He asked quietly, changing tact. Castiel narrowed his eyes as he nodded. “Then let me help you make this baby.” 

As his husband’s eyes perked up in interest, Dean leaned in slowly, gently parting his just licked lips as he neared Castiel’s, feeling that familiar flutter in his stomach as their mouths joined. He lifted up onto his knees automatically, and Castiel’s hands went straight to his ass, lifting as he dragged him onto his lap, straddling his legs. His cock had already started to fill, and when Cas licked into him and explored his mouth with his tongue it twitched to attention, although he was not the one who was supposed to be getting off, here. 

A low hum escaped Castiel’s lips when Dean dragged his mouth to his husband’s jaw, lapping his tongue along the angle of bone, catching on his short stubble. Cas took the opportunity to nibble at his earlobe, and gooseflesh broke out across Dean’s skin at the unreal sensation. He shivered and gasped, and Cas pulled him closer, pulling Dean’s body flush with his own. 

“Blow me.” Cas whispered, eyes dark and mischievous. Dean could come at the sight, he loved it when his husband got so fucking bossy and demanding, but he couldn’t give in to him today. 

“Can’t.” He said, but he did plunge his hand down into Castiel’s lap to squeeze his cock through his slacks while his husband growled deliciously. “Don’t wanna get my DNA on you.” 

Cas shrugged lightly in acceptance, because quite clearly he hadn’t considered that potential issue, but he seemed happier now Dean had one hand around his dick. Dean pulled Castiel’s boxers down enough to let it bob free, and he wrapped his fingers firmly around the thick length as he worked it up and down, kissing his husband as he did. Cas grunted when Dean rubbed his thumb over the head and dragged his precome down his cock. He pulled his lips from Dean’s with a huff, and his eyes were narrowed as his hand went out to rub his husband’s bulge. 

Dean whimpered at the touch, desperately craving some action, but knowing full well he shouldn’t be. Whatever the hell happened, he couldn’t risk contaminating this fucking sample. 

“Wanna fuck you so badly.” Castiel moaned, his voice gravelly and delicious. He let his head rest back against the wall, but continued to slowly rub Dean’s cock through his jeans. Dean wished he’d stop, but at the same prayed he wouldn’t ever. He was bucking into the touch for more pressure, and Cas was wearing this wicked smirk that Dean knew was because Cas owned him. He had to control himself. He _couldn’t_ come in here, and he _wouldn’t_ come in his pants right now. Especially considering Charlie was outside waiting for them. Dean pulled back with a reluctant groan, focusing his efforts on working Cas to completion. 

Picking up speed, Dean spat in his other hand and swapped over, Cas moaning his approval as the friction dissolved into quicker pumps. But Cas wasn’t done fucking with him, not yet anyway, and he dragged Dean’s ass closer, pushing his hand out of the way and taking his cock in his own hand as he rubbed it up against Dean’s. Dean whined, trying desperately to cling on to his desires and self respect. It was getting hard not to start begging Cas to make him come. 

While trying desperately to ignore the delicious friction of Castiel’s cock being rubbed on his own clothed erection, Dean took the opportunity to pull the sample pot out of his husband’s jacket pocket. He unscrewed the lid before slapping his husband’s hand away and replacing his fingers with his own again, massaging tightly up and down Castiel’s cock and swallowing back relief or regret that his own dick was once again untouched. His boxers were already sticking to him uncomfortably where he was leaking, he didn’t need Cas making matters worse, even if bringing him apart still clothed did seem to be one of his husband’s kinks.  

Pushing their lips back together, Dean pumped his hand down Castiel’s dick as quickly as he could. His husband was sucking on his neck, and it was so difficult, almost impossible, not to grind against him until he came. He wasn’t that far off it, at any rate, considering Cas hadn’t touched his skin yet. Dean held the pot ready as Cas started to breathe heavier, and before long he’d started to shake. 

“If you won’t come for me in here, you’re gunna stay nice and ready until I can have my way with you back home.” Castiel promised, and Dean’s cock twitched again at the thought, staring into Castiel’s lust filled eyes until his husband finally seized, eyes rolling back as he was overcome, filling up the damn pot until it almost overflowed.

The promise weighed heavy on Dean’s mind, and even after Cas had placed the sample pot on the counter his cheeks were still flushed and his arousal still strong. He got himself under control a little bit by the time they’d met back up with Charlie, the harsh reality of meeting her while he was still pink cheeked and the resulting taunting that followed succeeding pretty well in getting his dick to let up. But when they got back in the car Cas shot him a look, those light eyes unusually dark and wanting, his expression unmistakable, and Dean had to suppress a groan, shuffling uncomfortably while his jeans got tighter again. The hand that his husband rested on his upper thigh, fingers gently rolling inside didn’t help matters, either. 

He was kind of grateful that their flight back to the UK was only a few hours away, it meant Charlie wouldn’t be able to hang around and they could have the _alone time_ that he desperately needed. 

It didn’t take long, by the time they’d got home, for Dean to start begging for it. If he’d been less in love it might almost have been embarrassing, but as soon as the door had shut behind them — and right now they were truly, completely alone, because the staff weren’t here and the security they’d hired was some temp just for this weekend — Dean had pounced on his husband, pulling their lips back together in a desperate kiss that Cas was barely returning. 

“ _Please._ ” Dean begged, as Cas kissed him chastely. All he wanted was that damned tongue down his throat. Or in his ass, either or. His asshole husband, who knew exactly what he was doing, just smiled nicely against his lips and pulled back despite Dean’s strong hands yanking him forward. Cas smirked, and Dean knew he was having the time of his fucking life. It was up there in his favourite things, getting him worked up and acting all innocent about it. Dean’s cock twitched in protest when Cas peeled away from him and headed towards the bottom of the stairs. 

“We better get our bags packed.” Cas said simply, and Dean narrowed his eyes. Two could play at this fucking game. He let Cas walk halfway up the stairs before he followed, and quickly spun him around with strong hands on his shoulders. His husband hadn’t anticipated the move, and as he twisted he dropped, ass landing on a step with a soft thud. Castiel’s eyebrows raised as Dean straddled his legs, kneeling over that same step, and when Dean pushed back in the actor let the kiss deepen, finally, _finally_ sweeping his tongue inside. 

Dean moaned at the electric sensation, and shamelessly rutted forward against Castiel’s stomach, the firm denim providing a nice friction on his painfully hard cock. His husband just kissed him back, made no move to take things further, and it took Dean a while to figure out that Cas wanted him to take control. It made him a little nervous, because it wasn’t his ballgame, it was his husband’s, but he knew he was good in bed and he knew he could make Cas come apart just as well when he set his mind to it. 

So he pushed hastily away, licking his lips as he lifted his hips up, hands fumbling with the button on his jeans before he shuffled them down and kicked them off his leg. Castiel’s eyes had darkened, lust blown, and he was watching intensely how tight Dean’s boxer briefs now were. Dean met his husband’s eyes again as he stripped him of his own jeans, and he could see Castiel was beginning to wear down, that soon he’d be flipping him over and pounding into his ass. He couldn’t fucking wait for that. 

To hurry things along, Dean pulled his boxers off next. The relief he felt when his cock finally bobbed free and smacked up against his stomach was insane, and he let a heavy breath out while Cas watched, licking his lips slowly. What a fucking tease. Just because Castiel had already come once today didn’t mean Dean should have to work harder for his own pleasure, surely? 

Starting to get a little frustrated (just a little), Dean lifted his husband’s hand and guided it between his legs. Cas stared up at him with a shit-eating grin, like he hadn’t done this a thousand times and needed instructions. Dean could have punched him. Cas kept his hand still though, and Dean watched him with narrowed, irritated eyes as he angled one finger and lifted, settling slowly down onto it and adjusting as it stretched him open. 

Still, Cas made no move to please him, just kept his hand still and kept staring innocently up at him, despite the erection Dean could see in his boxers. Dean groaned, because sure, Cas might be enjoying this immensely, but it was some sort of torture and he was feeling really embarrassed about how needy he’d got, even worse when he started to move, fucking himself on the finger for _some sort_ of relief. 

Dean cursed after a few more moments, because Cas continued to defy him. He bent his hand underneath himself and pulled off, plunging slowly back down onto a second finger. His husband’s lack of compliance was making it hard to get the angle right, he kind of needed him to crook his fingers or drag down or _something._ But Cas could make this as difficult as he wanted, he was still going to get off. 

Frustrated, Dean glared down at his unhelpful husband as he shoved another one of his fingers inside him, rocking on it as he panted, wincing at the discomfort of the stretch. His knees were starting to protest where they were taking all of his weight, and he buckled forwards, sucking in a heavy breath when the angle suddenly improved. His cock was straining where he was so goddamned hard, and physically dripping, small droplets of precome leaking onto his husband’s chest. 

Castiel finally moved, then, lifted his head to capture Dean’s lips. Dean gasped when Cas suddenly splayed his fingers and stretched him out wide open, but the hand was gone as soon as it had moved. Dean caught his eye, wrenching his lips away, and Cas nodded, lifting his ass as Dean ripped his boxers off and let his cock spring out. 

With a hurried breath, Dean shuffled forward, and Cas held his cock steady as he lined his hole up and gently, gently settled down onto it. 

“You’re beautiful.” Cas whispered, as Dean sat there on him, flushed and panting. The burn was painful without lube, and it was taking a while to adjust. Yet more blood made its way to Dean’s cheeks as he listened, but his embarrassment was a sure second to his overwhelming arousal, and he rocked his hips experimentally, finding a good angle, while Cas purred underneath him. 

For a few minutes Dean tried, but whether it was the stairs pushing his husband up and limiting their space or Castiel’s lack of voluntary input he was unsure, he just couldn’t get it quite right and he was getting extremely frustrated. He let out a pissed off grunt after a little while, and as a reward Cas thrust suddenly up into him, smacking into his prostate. The bastard. It was all him after all. 

That pulse of pleasure soon faded, but Cas was once again still. If he wasn’t using his hands to hold him up right now he might try and jerk himself off because he needed _something, anything_ , but he had the suspicion Cas wouldn’t let him even if he could try. 

“ _Please_!” He begged again, hoping that his husband might take pity, but Cas just kept watching with that stupid smirk and kept breathing steadily, like he wasn’t balls deep inside Dean right now. Dean kept trying for a few more minutes, but he was getting nowhere, so he pulled off angrily, and went to move, shuffling back on his knees. 

Luckily though, Castiel seemed to have had enough. The movie star pushed him suddenly up to standing, and spun him around so that he was somehow in front. With a hand on his back he pushed, and Dean let his knees buckle down and his hands catch a higher step to hold himself up as his ass was left presented for his husband. 

He didn’t have to wait long. Seconds later Cas had lined back up and driven his cock back inside, expertly smashing into his prostate and leaving him seeing stars. This was what he needed. Why couldn’t he have done this ten minutes ago? 

As Cas started to pound roughly into him Dean became more vocal. He couldn’t hear the words he was letting out, but from past experience he mostly just yelled out his husband’s name and the odd curse word. Cas fucked into him time and time again and he really desperately wanted to grab his cock because it was painful where he needed to come so badly, but he also knew that he’d have an orgasm a thousand times better if he came untouched. 

With a hand on his stomach Cas pulled, and Dean lifted his chest up so he was flush against his husband. Cas mouthed at his neck as he pounded into him, leaving a trail of kisses, nibbles, and soft pink marks. Dean wasn’t going to last any time at all. 

When Cas refocused his efforts on Dean’s ear his body started to shake. When Cas breathed a hot breath over it Dean let out a curse word that never stopped, and when Cas stroked his balls with his spare hand, Dean _finally_ came, encompassed entirely by that overwhelming pleasure that washed through him in a wave, making his body spasm and his cock pour over the stairs. 

It went on for way longer than usual, too. Cas was a little further behind him, having already got off not that long ago, and every time he fucked back inside and brushed his prostate Dean screamed again, the over stimulated bundle of nerves twitching in some weird sort of protest while his cock dribbled out more come. 

Behind him though, Cas was panting too, now. Only a few more minutes passed before Cas was moving more erratically, and seconds later he stopped as he shook out his own release. He pulled his t-shirt off, sweaty and sticky, and went to hold it under his cock to catch the mess before he pulled out, but Dean leant his head back on his husband’s shoulder and shook his head. 

“We’re gunna have to do some cleaning up anyway.” Dean explained, but he was smiling. 

Castiel laughed, and when Dean looked over his shoulder the actor looked really, _really_ happy. “ _That._ ” Cas said, smirking. “Is how you make a baby.” 


	42. No Doubt in My Mind Where You Belong

But I will never do you wrong,

I've known it from the moment that we met,

**No doubt in my mind where you belong.**

 

That beautifully happy smile and the accompanying good mood did slowly fade. 

At some point across the Atlantic, Dean had woken up. He supposed it was where the time difference was really screwing with him. It was the afternoon in LA, when they’d left, and they’d be landing back in London at 10am. He didn’t know whether he was tired or not, let alone whether he should be. He felt pretty ok though, given that he’d woken up mid flight. Castiel was still in his arms and he felt safe with him there. He supposed he was finally, slowly getting over his fears. 

To his surprise, though, when Castiel eventually rolled over some time later, his eyes were wide open, too. He shot his husband a smile, because he’d presumed him asleep, but although Cas did curl his lips in return, the warmth was lacking, and Dean could see his anxieties were eating away at him again. He furrowed his brow as he lifted a hand up to his husband’s hair and slowly carded through the messy dark lengths while Castiel hummed in response. 

“What if it doesn’t work?” Cas asked quietly, after a few minutes of staring into each other’s eyes. 

“Then we try again.” Dean smiled in reassurance. 

“No, I mean, what if it won’t work?” Cas insisted, and from the way he was chewing his lip it sunk in what he was getting at. 

“It’ll work, babe.” 

“You can’t possibly know that.” Cas pouted, and Dean sighed, stroking his fingers down his husband’s cheek. 

“Why are you so worried that you’re infertile? Where is this coming from?” Dean questioned, but as he spoke the words he figured it out. It was the pressure, wasn’t it? The fact that he’d so outrightly refused to be the father meant that this whole thing rested on Castiel’s ability to perform. Cas was probably worrying that if he wasn’t able that they’d never have kids. His husband looked away uncomfortably, playing with his fingers. 

His insecurities weren’t worrying Dean, he could understand why Cas was feeling the pressure of that. What was concerning him was how much Cas was being swallowed by his anxiety, how easily he’d been taken up in it again. Dean sucked in a slow breath, because he was scared, again, that they’d rushed this. Had he been an idiot to carry on with this so soon after their marriage had been repaired? After Chuck and Adam and all this shit they’d been through this year? Maybe he should have insisted they take some more time out just to be themselves before carrying on with their family. Maybe if it didn’t work first time he should ask for a pause…

“Cas?” Dean said quietly, because his husband had never responded. Castiel looked up to meet his eyes, fear and worry within his own. “We _will_ have kids, baby. One way or another.” He sighed, and rubbed his cheek with his hand. “If it really came down to it… if _I had to_ , then you know I would, right?” He said, hoping that got his point across. Cas was starting to worry him a little. Maybe he should arrange a few FaceTime sessions with Nygard. It might do his husband some good. 

“You would?” Cas asked in surprise, but there was a small glimmer of hope in his gaze, now. 

“Yeah, of course I would.” Dean smiled softly. “I want this too, Cas, and I’ll do anything for it. I just… well you know why I want this baby to be yours. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t… _you know._ If we had no other option. But it’ll be fine, babe, you’ll be fine.” 

Cas breathed out a sigh of relief and shuffled lower, nuzzling his head against Dean’s chest. Dean tightened his grip on his husband’s back and pressed a long kiss into his hair, whistling out a sigh of his own. “Get some sleep. You’ve got another meeting… this afternoon? Tomorrow afternoon? I don’t know, I’ve lost track of time.” 

“Mmm.” Cas hummed. “Don’t feel like I can. I’m wide awake.” 

“Recite your lines to me then, that sometimes helps, right?” Dean suggested gently. 

“For what scene?” 

“Whichever is next.” Dean shrugged. 

At that, a pink blush crept up his husband’s cheeks, and Dean frowned, angling his head to stare down into his eyes. He hadn’t been able to attend as much of the filming as he’d have liked this time around, being busier than he was two years ago. He was unsure quite what stage they’d got to, but by his husband’s reaction, he could have a good guess. 

“It’s awkward.” Cas whispered in explanation. “And I’m really nervous about it.” 

“Cas, don’t worry about it.” Dean said in reassurance, but really, he didn’t like to think about it either. He’d met the guy that Cas would be kissing, and typically, he was 6’ 4” and drop dead gorgeous, with arms that any sane man would be jealous of. “It’s just acting. I know you love me.” 

When Castiel remained silent, Dean rubbed his face with his hands. “Maybe it would better if you did practice it with me, you might not be so nervous when you’re really doing it. You can pretend it’s just me.” 

And at that, Cas looked up to meet Dean’s eyes, uncertainty flooding his blue. But after a moment of consideration, he gave the gentlest of nods. “Ok.” He agreed, and he took a few deep breaths while he thought about it. “So, to set the scene, you and I have gone off on a kamikaze mission. I tried to go alone, because it’s basically suicide, and I’ve failed. But it turns out you followed me.” 

“That’s romantic of me.” Dean smirked, trying to lighten the air. 

“It is.” Cas said, but he smiled too. Dean watched as Cas pushed back and sat himself up, as that façade appeared, the one he knew from all those movies. Cas transformed into Castiel, and suddenly he was the Oscar-winning actor, rather than the goofy kid from across the street that he’d fallen for. Dean pulled up to join him, sitting cross-legged and close enough to touch him. His husband tapped on his phone, loading up the script and handing it to Dean so he could keep track. He quickly skimmed the PDF and pointed at their starting line. “Ready?” He asked, and Dean nodded. 

“Ok, so a huge piece of debris has just fallen near us and you’ve pulled me in close.” Dean smiled. Cas nodded, mentally finding his place. He reached his arms out, grabbing Dean’s shoulder tightly in one hand. The intensity of his stare had Dean falling in love all over again, and he wanted to crumple when Castiel’s face fell. He looked suddenly heartbroken.  

“I’m so sorry.” Cas whispered, but really he wasn’t Cas right now, he was his character, Orry. “I’m so sorry that I’ve let you down.” He choked, and Dean had to resist the urge to pull him in even closer because that wasn’t in the script and yet these words were. He couldn’t quite believe it was just an act. “It was always you. I always needed you. I needed to save you… but… I’ve failed.” 

“It wasn’t your job to save me.” Dean said quietly, after a quick glance down at the script. “It’s ok.” 

“No.” Cas protested, looking suddenly more pissed off and frustrated. Jesus, this guy was _good_. It was so easy for Dean to forget his talent when he woke up to the sight of him naked every morning. “No, it isn’t ok. You don’t understand. You _can’t_ understand how important you are to me—”

“—Orry.” Dean interrupted, a hand coming up to cup his husband’s cheek. He stared at Cas with intensity, wondering if the tears in his eyes were real or pretend. The words he was about to say might be scripted, but they weren’t pretend. “You gave me a reason to live.” 

And at that his husband buckled, throwing himself in and pressing their lips firmly together, clutching him with desperation and need as they somehow merged into one complete being, like they’d always just been two halves of the same whole. Dean pushed back at him, letting his lips part and his tongue sweep against his husband’s, and he only pulled away when he felt a dampness on his cheek, breaking apart to meet Castiel’s tears. 

All Cas could do then was just stare at him, pain laid bare for Dean to see. There was no hiding this, now. Dean furrowed his brow, but he leant in to wrap his arms around his husband once again, and Cas sniffed as he struggled to hold himself together, letting his forehead drop into Dean’s shoulder, while Dean peppered his hair with soft kisses. 

He could see now why Cas was so nervous about this scene. He could see how Cas was applying it to himself, how he could relate it to them and their marriage. He himself heard the words reiterating through his head, like it was their love story they were describing, and he knew why Cas was getting upset. But his husband had more than made up for his failures, he knew that, right?

“You haven’t failed me.” Dean whispered, holding him close. “You saved me. And you _are_ my reason to live.” 

Cas pulled gently back to meet the smile that Dean was shooting him, and he rubbed away the last tear that had fallen as he nodded. Dean’s concern was skyrocketing, right about now, and he wished beyond measure that he had some magic switch he could flip to make everything better for his husband. His own anxieties were building up inside him, and he was scared. He wanted to take the pain from within his heart, needed to, really, now that they’d given this process the go ahead. He almost felt like asking for more time, but he figured the knock in confidence might harm his husband more than rushing things. After all, even in best (…worst?) case scenario they still had a minimum of ten months to prepare for this change. Ten months could change your life, as he well knew. 

“You’re going to melt some serious hearts with that scene.” Dean said, lightening the mood. At the comment, Castiel let out a little laugh. 

“The only heart I want to melt is yours.” He smiled, and Dean rolled his eyes at the cheesy response. 

“You melted it fifteen years ago.”

Castiel beamed at the admission, and Dean rolled his eyes, leaning in to steal another kiss. 

“You don’t die, though, right? Surely they don’t kill you off?” Dean asked. Cas hadn’t told him he was going to die in the movie. 

“No.” Cas smiled. “This is Hollywood, Dean, obviously we get saved last minute.” 

“Obviously.” Dean smirked. “Now how about we practice that kiss again?” 

 

*

 

Whether the set was actually as hot as it felt or it was just the warmth of her second hand embarrassment that was pinking Naomi’s cheeks, she was unsure. It was obvious that he was struggling, that for whatever reason Castiel was having a difficult time getting this scene done right. They were on about the twentieth take and he hadn’t actually even succeeded in getting to the point yet where he actually kissed Noah. 

Dipping her hands into her pockets, she sighed, fingers clasping around her cell phone as she pulled it out, firing off a quick plea for help from the actor’s husband, knowing full well he was in a conference call but not one important enough for her to be concerned that she was interrupting it. Maybe it was the fact that Noah was a man that was bothering Castiel. Maybe it was the fact that he was admittedly very attractive, and perhaps he felt by kissing him he was being unfaithful to Dean. She just hoped by asking the mechanic to join them it might negate his fears. 

She didn’t wait long before receiving the message that Dean was on his way, but by this point they were midway through the next — maybe twenty-first — take. Up there on the set in front of the green screen, her boss stood in full costume, head painted white with thick black lines striking across his cheeks, resembling some sort of zebra as much as the alien he was meant to be. Naomi didn’t pretend to understand the sci-fi stuff. Castiel was clinging onto Noah’s shoulders with two hands, expression mixed, half heartbroken, half angry. This part, he’d nailed by now. It was this next bit that was causing them all issues. 

“No.” Castiel insisted suddenly, eyes entirely on Noah. “No, it isn’t ok. You don’t understand. You _can’t_ understand how important you are to me—”

“—Orry.” Noah cut him off mid flow, but already Naomi could see the telltale signs that Cas was about to recoil. Noah reached out, cupping Castiel’s cheek in his hand, and yep, game over, because Castiel was crumpling.“You gave me a reason to live.”

Rather than proceed to kiss each other senseless like had been asked of them, Cas pulled his gaze away, screwing his face up angrily. 

“Fuck!” He yelled, in case anyone was uncertain of how frustrating he was finding it too. Naomi wondered just how badly he didn’t want to do it, whether he was even going to be able to, or whether they should try and renegotiate the script, even at this late stage. She was hoping it wouldn’t come to that.

They tried again, a few more times, and it was only when they reached the twenty-fifth take that Dean arrived, sneaking into the back quietly so as not to disturb the filming. He snuck up so slowly that Naomi almost startled when he suddenly brushed shoulders with her, but she pulled in a deep breath as the mechanic trained his eyes on his husband, narrowing as Cas reached that same point and once again lost it. 

With a light smile at Dean, Naomi made her way quietly over to the director, who sighed before agreeing with her, and announcing a ten minute break. She didn’t have to tell Dean what to do, because while Cas stood there on set appearing hopeless, he was hurrying over there to help. 

 

*

 

“Hey.” Dean whispered as he approached his husband. Castiel jumped, having not noticed Dean’s entrance and so not anticipated his presence, but he looked really fucking grateful, and the deep sigh that he let out was obviously full of relief. Dean stepped towards him, pulling their bodies automatically together in a gentle hug, trying not to fuck up Castiel’s makeup as their cheeks brushed lightly. He was lucky they’d made sure it was resilient enough to withstand kissing, because it was still perfect when he pulled back enough to catch his husband’s eye again. 

“I just can’t do it.” Cas complained, voice barely louder than a whisper. The microphones were all turned off by now, but they were pretty far from alone. 

“It’s alright.” Dean said, and he gently stroked the back of his fingers down Castiel’s cheeks while his husband watched him with sad eyes. “But you _can_ do this. You just need to be Orry. You need to let go of Castiel for a little while, let go of me.” 

“I’ll never let go of you.” Castiel said softly. 

“I don’t want _you_ to.” Dean smiled. “But Orry needs to.” He pointed out, before sighing and changing tactic. “Cas, baby, I know that this scene is getting to you because of us. I know that it reminds you of the shit we’ve been through, but rather than getting upset over it you need to use it, you need to channel it. Orry and Tano have been through some terrible things too, so just pretend they’re us, finally getting that moment that we got. Tano is Orry’s Dean, don’t you see?” 

After that, Castiel went quiet, expression thoughtful, and when he looked back up he had more determination in his eyes than Dean had seen for a long time. Castiel smiled then, and leaned towards Dean ready to kiss him, but Dean just chuckled, lifting a finger to his husband’s lips while Cas pouted. 

“Get this right, and you can have all the kisses you want.” He promised, because although he badly wanted his husband’s lips on his own, it would be very weird for Noah if he had to kiss Cas after they’d just made out. He swallowed, because as much as he wanted Cas to get this right and get it done, he really wished he didn’t have to watch him make out with another guy. Particularly one quite as beautiful as that tall tank with the big brown eyes and golden hair. 

A few minutes later and the atmosphere in the studio was definitely improved. Castiel’s energy was back on form, and the director was finally smiling. 

“—Orry.” Noah said, for the twenty-sixth time that day bringing his hand up to hold Castiel’s cheek. “You gave me a reason to live.”

And, for the first time that day, Castiel maintained his broken expression, before he steadily but surely leant in, pressing his lips against Noah’s, passion building as they grabbed at each other. Dean was weirdly proud, but at the same time couldn’t watch. He looked at the floor instead, shuffling uncomfortably on his feet while Naomi placed a gentle hand on his arm. He glanced up to meet her gaze, and offered her a small smile. She was grateful and relieved that he’d managed to talk Cas round, he could see. He just wished it felt like success, and when he flashed his gaze back over to his husband, whose lips were still dancing on another man’s, that it didn’t hurt a little, even though he knew in his heart it was all pretend. 

There was a loud crash on set, and the piece of debris fell, calculated perfectly close to his husband’s feet. It was enough to break the kiss apart, and Noah stared into Castiel’s eyes with awe. 

“If I had to pick a way to go.” He whispered, voice carried by the microphones. “It would have been with you.” 

Castiel’s expression fell, and he pulled the other man back into his chest. An alarm sounded, and he looked around uncertainly before the director called to cut the scene, finally happy. Cas stood, letting go of Noah and hovering awkwardly for a few moments, as if expecting to have to do that again. But Dean knew as well as the director did that he’d finally nailed it, that his act had been so convincing there was no way it would need another take. From the way his heart was throbbing, Dean knew that it was believable. 

The relief that coursed through the movie star’s face when he was finally released was unreal, and Dean beamed as their eyes locked, and Cas began hurrying over to meet him. Dean assisted in closing the distance, and that nagging pain in his heart healed up as Castiel’s arms enveloped around him, as he felt his husband’s lips pressing into his cheek and clutching him closely. Dean pulled back enough to snatch a kiss from Castiel’s lips, and his husband hummed happily at the contact. When he looked up into his gaze again, Dean was pleased to see that the sadness had dissipated, that for the first time in, he didn’t even really know how many months, Cas looked actually happy. He pulled him close again, chin resting lightly on his shoulder. 

“Thank you.” Cas mumbled, and Dean just nodded gently. He knew his husband was grateful for his attendance, and simultaneously sorry he’d had to witness that, but right now his attention was elsewhere, because he’d caught sight of Noah staring in their direction, expression confused. He was sure he was just imagining it, that it was just jealousy talking, but he knew from experience how good a kisser Castiel was, and although, _really_ , he’d probably known for a while before they’d first explored each other that he wasn’t 100% straight, it had been that first kiss of theirs that had proved it to him. Dean narrowed his eyes a little, and when Noah realised he’d been caught looking, he turned away in a hurry. 

“I’ll go get cleaned up, and we can head home.” Castiel said quietly, but when Dean pulled back he had a wicked glint in his eye. 

“Or…” He whispered into Castiel’s ear, sending gooseflesh down his husband’s spine. Noah might get to kiss him, just this once, but the rest of Castiel’s body was all his. He was going to have Orry, too, just to prove he could. Ok, so maybe he _was_ slightly jealous. “You can keep that costume on and take me back to your dressing room.” 


	43. I Have Faith in What I See

Baby, I’m dancing in the dark, with you between my arms,

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song,

**I have faith in what I see,**

Now I know I have met an angel in person. 

 

“Cas!” Dean hissed again, for the third time. He hovered awkwardly at the edge of the room, impatiently ushering his husband along as he finished up his conference call. He knew he was being very rude and Cas was busy, but right now? He really fucking didn’t give a shit. 

The actor shot him an irritable glance and inhaled sharply, but at Dean’s exaggerated hand roll he seemed to finally get the idea that he needed to hurry this along. Dean was almost shaking where he was so pent up, and when the guy on the other end of the call ignored Castiel’s finishing comment and started bringing up something new, Dean had had enough. He stepped forward into the view of the camera, watching the confusion spread on the producer’s face. 

“Sorry, I need my husband, if you’re not done can you call him later?” He asked confidently. Castiel stared up at him with narrowed, confused eyes while Dean stared the producer into submission. He smiled politely as he hung up the call with the promise of finishing off later this evening. 

“What is it?” Cas asked a little irritably. Dean just grinned, and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of his seat and leading him into the living room he’d just run out of. He beamed as he pointed at his cell phone, and Cas shot him a questioning look as he leant over to pick it up, face instantly changing as he took in the image still on the screen. “What… is this… is this for real?” He spluttered. 

“I think so, yeah.” Dean said quietly, heart feeling so full it might burst. 

“That second line… that… it’s positive?” Cas asked, obviously struggling to believe what he was seeing. 

Dean beamed, a beautiful, wide, happy smile. “I think so, yeah.” 

“She’s pregnant?” 

And by this point Dean was laughing, because Castiel’s expression was one of complete disbelief but perfect happiness. “I think so, yeah!” 

“So… we… we’re gunna…” Cas stuttered. 

“We’re gunna have a baby, yeah!” Dean grinned, and he wrapped his arms around his husband in excitement and content. Castiel clutched him back like he couldn’t quite believe it, but when Dean pulled away enough to look into his eyes he finally started to let his happiness show, and he dragged Dean in for a kiss that was all passion and love. 

Surely nothing could top this feeling? He knew it was still early days but the knowledge that he was going to be a father was somehow the best news he’d ever had. He hadn’t realised quite how badly he wanted it until it was finally happening, and the sight of the pure delight on Castiel’s face made it so worthwhile. Maybe this was what Cas needed to heal himself, maybe this baby would be the glue that fixed him. They could be rushing things, sure, but when he could see that absolutely ecstatic expression he couldn’t bring himself to think it had been anything but the right call. 

 _They were going to have a baby._  

Before Dean could even process Castiel’s sudden change in expression their lips had been crashed back together. Dean suppressed a moan as Cas pulled him flush, and where he was so happy his dick immediately got the memo, and sprung instantly to attention. The actor’s hands were on his ass already and as he licked into him with his tongue and Cas ground their hips together, this gasp escaped Dean’s lips without his say so. 

Although he was sure they weren’t going to make it, Cas tugged on his arm, and together, lips still dancing, they stumbled backwards, drawing passionate kisses from each other and rutting helplessly against one another. Dean let his husband usher him back until his foot was against the bottom step, and he tried to guide himself back but ended up falling onto his ass, the movie star wasting no time in diving down to meet him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pushing his crotch down against Dean’s. 

All Dean could do was groan, because the friction was so tantalising and Cas had this perfect angle to drive forwards right now. He kissed him back with fervour, picturing that tongue deep somewhere else as he let his arousal overwhelm him completely. 

It didn’t take long for Castiel to get frustrated, and the buttons on Dean’s jeans were undone before he even knew about it. He wasn’t complaining, though, even less so when the denim was pushed down to his thighs, his cock left straining within his boxers. Matters only got better when Castiel followed suit, dropping his own jeans to his knees. As he rutted forward again, the reduced friction between them was driving Dean wild. He _needed_ Cas right now, and he was struggling to gasp in air every time Cas moved against him. 

“Oh my fucking god.” They heard the scream from behind them and their faces paled. Cas snapped his neck back quickly to meet Naomi’s wide eyes from the hall, and his expression changed to one of horror as he cursed, dragging his jeans rapidly back up and over his dick. 

Naomi looked completely traumatised, but she closed her eyes, holding up her hands in surrender and rushing into the living room, leaving a mortified Castiel hovering awkwardly over his pink cheeked husband. Dean though, could see the funny side. The colour soon left his face and although yes, it was possibly the most embarrassing thing that had happened to him in a long time, it was funny that it was Naomi. She was such a prude when it came to sex and he could lord this over her forever. It could have been worse, too. A few more minutes and they would probably have been full on fucking on the stairs. She might not have appreciated the sight of this, but walking in on the actor balls deep inside his ass would probably have got the better of her. His smile broke out over his face where he was trying not to laugh, and at the sight of it Cas just rolled his eyes, and pulled Dean’s jeans back up for him. 

“Guess it’ll have to wait ’til tonight.” Castiel said as an apology.

Dean grinned, his arousal having dissipated in the surprise anyway, and accepted the kiss Cas left on his lips. 

Now re-clothed, the two coyly slipped back into the living room, where they stood side by side, wishing they could still touch without it being kind of inappropriate now. Castiel was obviously trying to think of an apology or an excuse as to why his manager had just caught them shamelessly getting it on on their staircase, and he hadn’t caught Naomi’s eye. But Dean had. He could see how she was shocked and confused and eyeing them with suspicion and curiosity, and when he glanced to the coffee table and saw his phone screen still lit up, he looked back to meet her eye. 

Fuck. _Busted._  

It hadn’t been the plan to tell anyone before at least the first sonogram, because although this first hurdle was passed, they’d been warned that first trimester miscarriages weren’t uncommon, and on learning that, Castiel’s anxieties had resurfaced and he’d made Dean swear not to tell anyone until they got past that point. It looked like they weren’t going to make it past that point before they got caught. Naomi met his eye, mouth parted slightly, and by this point the silence had become awkward enough that Cas had lifted his gaze to meet their exchange, and it started to dawn on him too that them rutting on the stairs wasn’t the only thing she’d seen that she wasn’t supposed to. 

“Uhh…” Cas opened his mouth but he seemed unable to come up with anything intelligible to say. 

Dean shot him a glance that Cas returned cautiously, but no matter how the actor thought he could get around this, Dean knew he had to just come clean. It was only Naomi, and she needed to know sooner rather than later, at any rate. He nodded. “Tell her.” 

Castiel looked back to meet his manager’s gaze before shuffling uncomfortably, and looking at the floor. “Charlie’s pregnant.” He said quietly. 

Naomi stood in silence, watching them with confusion and alarm and slowly putting two and two together, without the help of the actor, who’d gone silent too, looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. 

“With our baby.” Dean said then, to clear things up when it became obvious Cas was done talking. “You probably shoulda pointed that bit out, Cas.” 

“She… you… what?” 

“Yeah.” Castiel chimed in again, then. And another broad smile cracked across his lips that filled Dean’s heart with joy and made him want to push him back down on the stairs again. “We’re having a baby.” 

“Charlie’s being a surrogate for you?” Naomi asked, eyes wide with disbelief. 

Dean scoffed. “That’s what you took from that?” He asked, and the manager blinked back the confusion. 

“You two are having a baby?” Naomi corrected herself, and Dean was pleased that he’d managed to shock her at least this once. 

“Yeah.” Castiel said, that smile still lighting up his face. Dean beamed at the sight of it. 

“Yeah, we are!” He grinned. 

Naomi stood there in complete disbelief, taken entirely unawares by this turn of events. Her eyes darted curiously between the two beaming men as if she was unsure whether to take this on face value or assume it was some kind of prank. Dean could remember blurting out, in the midst of an argument about Chuck, that they’d talked about starting a family, but it was obvious that she’d entirely forgotten about it. He couldn’t help the laugh that left his lips, because he could read her inner monologue. 

“We’re serious, Nay, we’re having a baby.” He insisted, grinning. 

It was the sincerity in Dean’s eyes at that moment that led Naomi to the conclusion that it was not, in fact, a joke, and a smile crept hesitantly across her lips as she glanced back at Castiel, who was nodding his head in agreement with his husband. 

“Well… congratulations?” She said, almost a question, but Dean could see she was happy for them both, if a bit confused and taken aback. Dean beamed, and stepped forward to wrap her in a hug out of excitement and elation, one which she returned wholeheartedly, before letting go of him to hug his husband, too. 

“I’m proud of you both.” She admitted, when Cas had taken a step back. Her eyes were shining unusually bright with emotions she normally kept hidden. “You’re both good men, and you will make excellent fathers.” She smiled. “I mean, I wish you’d given me a bit of warning… but I am extremely happy for you.” 

Dean rolled his eyes in a show of mock annoyance while Cas smiled and glanced down at his feet, a blush on his cheeks. “You’ve got eight months warning, in fairness.” Dean chuckled, to which Naomi _actually_ laughed. 

“It’s a good job you’ve not got anything lined up after this then, Castiel. I expect you’ll be wanting some paternity leave.” She said, to which Cas blushed even harder, and she realised she’d been less than observant about his request for a break. It was starting to make sense, now. She’d thought he’d just wanted some time after everything they’d gone through the previous year. “When do you plan on announcing this?” 

Castiel glanced at his husband, an anxious expression suddenly breaking through the elation. Dean studied his eyes for a moment before nodding, and Castiel opened his mouth to speak. 

“We don’t want anyone to know until after the full sonogram.” Cas explained. Dean had wanted to tell the world as soon as they knew when the baby was due, but Castiel had begged him to let them delay it until they knew for certain everything was alright at the halfway point, and to spare his husband’s sanity, Dean had relented. 

“Ok, so we’ve got time then to figure out all of the details? How far along is she?” Naomi asked. 

“Three weeks and two days.” Castiel said casually, and Dean smirked at his precision. 

“So that’s why you two went back to LA?” Naomi inhaled slowly, putting the pieces back together in her mind. She let out a chuckle before looking up again, eyes flashing between both of theirs and smiling genuinely. “I’m _so_ pleased for you.” She said in earnest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little chapter here, they will get longer again. Back Monday!


	44. I'm at One, and I've Been Quiet for Too Long

Can't tell me there's no point in trying,

**I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long.**

I'm in need of a saviour, but I'm not asking for favours,

My whole life, I've felt like a burden,

I think too much, and I hate it.

 

The theatre was so large and grand, but if he was honest he was starting to get used to everything in his world being large and grand. Almost everything in Hollywood was large and grand. Being back in the UK for all that time had almost made him forget it. They were only back for a couple of days, but their stay there was almost at an end, now. There were hundreds of people in this place, filing to the back of the room in tiers against the vibrant red walls, rising almost as high as the art deco style ceiling with its suspended gold rings. 

Because of Castiel’s fame and his nomination, they were sat on the lowest level, closest to the domed stage, where this huge, glitzy arch sparkled as the spotlights hit it. Jimmy Kimmel stood in the centre, cracking jokes that had the glamorous audience laughing. Dean let out a chuckle of his own, and Castiel caught his eye with a bright smile. It wouldn’t be long now before his category was up. 

Shuffling in his chair, Dean sucked in a pained little breath, and Cas watched him curiously. He tried to ignore how his cheeks flushed pink with his husband’s stare, and instead, he shrugged, hoping to play it off as nerves. The idea had been stupid, impulsive, and he’d regretted it so much when he was stood on the red carpet with his husband, trying to walk normally with a huge fucking plug inside his ass, and a cock that had been at half mast since he’d put it in. As if they’d have had time for a quickie, anyway. What the fuck had he been thinking? But he couldn’t do fucking anything about it, now. He could hardly sneak off to the bathroom and take it out, because how in hell would he toss it in the trash? Someone would definitely find it or see him trying to dispose of it. He just had to put up with it, now, and sort it out at the afterparty, or worse, when he got home. 

Even so, he’d just _had_ to pick the fucking _Academy Awards_ to pull off this stupid fucking stunt, didn’t he? What a fucking idiot. 

Although Castiel looked away, Dean knew his husband hadn’t been fooled by his, ok, piss poor attempt at playing that off as nerves. He’d just wriggled in the wrong way and the damn thing had pressed into his prostate and that alone had sent a shiver down his spine. Of course Cas would have noticed. He was just lucky that the woman on the other side of him wasn’t paying him any mind. 

Dean inhaled sharply, though, when Castiel’s hand came to rest innocently on his thigh. The light stroking of his husband’s thumb made him wonder if he knew exactly what he was doing. His dark thought was confirmed in an even worse way, when Cas let a finger just ghost over his cock, only firm enough to feel that he had a good semi going on, right about now. Thank god they were introducing the Best Actor category already, and the cameras were heading over to focus on his husband’s face, because if Cas kept this up he’d end up doing something they’d both regret. 

It was no surprise, to literally fucking anyone, when Castiel was announced as the winner for his role in that space movie that, despite having had to watch a good ten times, Dean still didn’t understand. But he clapped and cheered though, and kissed Cas before his husband pulled away from him to head to the stage and accept his award, the cameras chasing him down the aisle. 

His speech was pretty generic, a rounded thank you to everyone involved in the movie, a special mention for his family, and Dean of course. After a couple of minutes, Castiel was ushered off the stage, but after a few more, he still hadn’t returned to his chair. Dean had fully expected his phone to vibrate, sure that his husband would be waiting for him somewhere more private, so he didn’t even bother to check the message as it buzzed through.

He leant over Castiel’s empty chair to speak to Naomi, desperately ignoring the plug moving in his ass as he did so, as he whispered at her his intention to go off in search of the bathroom. She nodded, seeming to care very little what he got up to, and he stood, straightening his tux over his crotch as he walked, only a little awkwardly, out of the main hall. People would probably blame his stupid bow legs, anyway. 

So it was only partly a surprise when he found Castiel immediately, standing in the bathroom, leaning casually against a cubicle door. It was even less of one, when his husband grabbed his hand and pulled him inside it, clutching his Oscar in his spare. Cas set the award down on the toilet behind them as he dragged himself closer to Dean, capturing his lips in a heated kiss as their tongues found each other’s. 

The actor wasted no time in dropping his hands to Dean’s belt, tugging it gracelessly open as Dean gasped for air. His eyes were dark as he pulled back, full of arousal and passion and heat, and Dean’s cock hardened the rest of the way as his pants were shuffled down. 

“I don’t know why you were so turned on in there, but I’m not complaining.” Castiel whispered into the skin of Dean’s neck between kisses and nibbles. Dean inhaled sharply, his hands finding Castiel’s ass and pulling their bodies closer, revelling in the pressure on his aching cock. It took away from his embarrassment at knowing Cas had seen straight through him. Even so, maybe the plug hadn’t been such a bad idea, after all. They really could have a quickie, now.

“I thought you might need some congratulating.” Dean breathed in response. “Or I guess it could have been commiserating, but I knew you’d get it.” 

“And your dirty little mind just kept fantasising, did it?” Castiel’s voice was thick with want, and Dean shuddered as his husband pulled his boxers down too, and his cock was finally freed. 

“Not exactly.” Dean admitted, his cheeks returning to pink. Castiel eyed him curiously, until Dean grabbed his hand and guided it between his legs. The actor’s eyes went wide as his fingers hit silicone, and he figured out what his husband was getting at. “This might have helped.” 

“I dare say it would have done, yeah.” Cas almost moaned, voice low and guttural. He dragged a breath into his lust tightened chest as his hands fumbled with his own belt, while Dean gripped his hips with strong fingers. He shuffled his own pants down to his thighs, tugging his boxers too and letting his cock bob freely, giving it a few strokes to get it to full attention. Dean could see his husband was intrigued as well as aroused. “What gave you this idea?” 

“I just know how much you love fucking in public.” Dean whispered, a broad grin on his lips that Cas couldn’t see, because he was kissing Dean’s jaw as he rutted up against him and ground their dicks together. “Thought I’d treat you.” 

“You make it sound like it’s just me.” Cas breathed over Dean’s ear, and his skin erupted in gooseflesh down that whole side of his body. 

He let out a groan when Cas dropped his hands to his ass, letting his fingers dip between his cheeks, and pushed on the plug, forcing it up against Dean’s prostate. “It’s not just you.” Dean admitted, seeing stars. 

“No? So seeing as we’re in public right now, what do you want me to do to you?” Cas said, as he pressed again on the plug and simultaneously pressed his rock hard cock against Dean’s. 

“I want you.” Dean replied, almost drooling as Cas reached between them, taking their cocks in his large, firm, hand, and gave a few experimental pumps. 

“To…?” Cas prompted. 

“To fuck me, Cas, please.” Dean asked, not caring that he was begging. If it got him the relief he needed then he’d do fucking anything for it. 

“Well…” Castiel whispered, his hand grasping at the end of the plug. “Seeing as you asked so nicely.” 

A grunt left Dean’s mouth without his permission as his husband pulled the plug out of him, leaving him empty and wanting. He watched, as the movie star lifted the lid to the cistern and dumped the plug inside, while Dean wondered why he hadn’t thought of that an hour ago. After giving a few more quick pumps to their cocks, Cas grabbed Dean’s hip instead and turned him roughly around so that his back was against his husband’s chest. Dean felt the thick head of Castiel’s cock against his cheeks as his husband teased it over his ass, hovering gently over his hole. He bent over slightly, hands resting on the cistern of the toilet before he pleaded again, and it was only then that he was properly filled. The plug, as good as it had been to keep him stretched and ready, felt nothing like his husband’s thick cock. Maybe it was the pulse of blood through it, Castiel’s practiced angle, or the fantastic length, he didn’t know, but that plug no way in fucking hell compared to how good this felt. 

“Fucking move.” Dean demanded once he’d adjusted to the size. 

From behind him, Castiel let out a little chuckle, like he was enjoying the comedic value of this encounter, but he did as he was told, pulling out only to slam back inside while Dean gasped in a breath. “I like this side of you, Dean.” Castiel said as he fucked back into him again. “I do love being in control, but I very much enjoy it when you get feisty in the bedroom.” 

“Or the bathroom.” Dean reminded him, unsure how he had the brain function to speak let alone come up with a comeback considering he was gasping in air and his cock was dripping precome over the toilet. He pushed his ass back, trying to force Castiel to fuck him faster. “Cas, fucking move and keep moving, will you?”

“Maybe I like you like this.” Cas said quietly, as he rocked his hips slowly inside again, leaving Dean cursing under him. 

“I don’t care if you like me like this. We’re at the fucking _Oscars_ , Cas, we’re on a bit of a schedule here. And, I’ve needed to come for hours, so if you don’t start actually fucking me I’ll turn you around and fuck you myself.” Dean snapped, and Castiel laughed again, but he did start moving, beginning to set a perfect rhythm that expertly grazed Dean’s prostate every couple of seconds. At long last. He’d be a wreck in no time if this kept up.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer, soon, if you keep being so bossy.” Castiel said thoughtfully, and Dean wondered how he could still speak so steadily when he was thrusting forward so quickly, and Dean himself was fast approaching orgasm. He still had the capacity to understand the statement, though, and he cast his head over his shoulder to catch the actor’s gaze. Castiel just winked at him, smiling. Dean had always loved their sex life, was pretty damned happy with his position as the bottom, but hell, if Cas wanted to switch things up every now and then, he could get down with that. It wasn’t like they’d _never_ switched, it was just that Cas hadn’t exactly been in the right frame of mind that time they’d tried it. 

“Just a little harder, baby, please.” Dean heard himself beg, and Castiel rewarded him with a deep thrust that was almost uncomfortable, but it had groans escaping his lips without permission. “Fuck. Yes. There.” He cried. 

“Are you close?” Castiel asked, pulling on Dean’s chest to stand him upright again. For the first time, Dean could hear the rasp to his husband’s voice, and he knew that Cas was almost there himself. Close was an understatement, though, Dean was seconds from exploding, and it was all he could do to nod against the actor’s cheek. One last thrust was all it took, but Cas kept fucking into him as Dean released, legs wobbling with the wave of intense pleasure, brain turning to fog as stars danced in his vision and his cock pulsed out in spurts of hot white. He always had the most insane orgasms when he’d been wound up for hours, and coming untouched was always his favourite. This combination was pure bliss. 

It didn’t take long, probably only thirty seconds, before Cas was following suit. Dean felt his husband’s cock flooding out inside of him as he pushed back down, while Castiel stuttered and groaned, hips gently coming to rest. They kissed lazily for the next sixty seconds or so as they caught their breath, and it was only when Dean reached for toilet paper to wipe them off that he saw it, and found himself bursting out in a fit of laughter. 

Luckily, Castiel could see the funny side, too, and together they chuckled as they cleaned Dean’s come off of the Oscar’s head. 

“Just, no paparazzi pictures of you kissing it.” Dean made his husband promise, while he wore an almighty smirk. “Because I will definitely not be able to hold it together.” 

But, true to form, his husband had gone one better, and the photo that made the headlines the following day was of them on the red carpet on the way out, Dean’s eyes creased in a fit of laughter while his husband stood with him, licking the golden statue in his hand. Needless to say, the paparazzi remained very much unaware of their in-joke.

 

*

 

Thankfully, because of the ongoing shoot and how many commitments they had throughout their UK stay, the next six weeks actually went by pretty quickly. Almost every night either Dean or Castiel would contact Charlie, and almost every night she’d give them the same reply of, _yes, everything is fine, stop worrying._ He’d wanted to go home for today, but Cas hadn’t been able to get the time off, and he couldn’t do it without him, couldn’t go to the sonogram and see their baby before his husband had the same chance. 

But without them, today they’d passed this next major hurdle, and the pregnancy was easing nicely into the second trimester. 

Despite constantly reassuring his husband and his overwhelming faith that everything would turn out fine, Dean had definitely felt a wave of relief wash through him when Charlie had sent word that the sonogram had gone ok, that their little one was growing in the right way, that it had the right number of limbs and a tiny beating heart. He’d stared at the image she’d sent him for the best part of an hour. Blurry white lines making a shape that somehow resembled a small human. _Their_ small human. It still hadn’t sunk in, probably wouldn’t until the baby was born. Definitely not until they got home and were able to watch Charlie’s stomach steadily grow. 

He was so _excited_. It had been a long time, years, probably, since he’d had such an intense feeling of enthusiastic anticipation for anything. He’d felt excited before their wedding, sure, but they’d been in control of that, and to some extent he knew what married life would be like, as he and Cas had been together for almost eighteen months before getting engaged. This was different, it was new, it was unpredictable, and yeah, that made it fucking terrifying, but it was fantastic at the same time. 

There was one thing putting a downer on his mood, though. He’d put up with it for weeks (months?) now, and he was starting to feel really antsy about it. Maybe it was because Charlie was very much in on their secret, but it was beginning to really get to him that he couldn’t talk to his brother and sister-in-law and share their news. He knew that they wouldn’t be shocked, because he remembered well what he’d said to Sam outside that coffee shop in Kansas when he was in the middle of the battle with Chuck for his husband, but he still wanted to talk about it, he wanted to shout it from the fucking rooftops, wanted to jump and dance with the pure glee that _he was going to be a dad._ Not to mention he had about a million questions, and who better to ask than two of the best parents he knew? It was beginning to drive him mad. 

The problem, though, was that Castiel was still so fucking anxious. Why, he was unsure. It had been months now since Chuck had been arrested, and overall, Castiel was a thousand times better than he had been. It was rare, now, for Dean to see a darkness behind his eyes, but that sadness seemed to have been channelled into overwhelming anxiety, and the movie star was still beyond terrified that something would go wrong. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t understand. Their life hadn’t exactly gone to plan, _ever_ , but that didn’t mean it was too late to start. They deserved this break. While Dean felt like they’d paid their dues, like they’d been dealt enough shit to last them a lifetime, Castiel had been left too scared to hope. Dean just hoped that was alright, that actually, it was an acceptable way of dealing with the things that had happened. They were headed home, soon, probably within the next two weeks, so Cas would be able to resume his therapy sessions.

But still, it was with a little bit of dread in his stomach that Dean sat down to dinner with his husband that night, because as much as he wanted to talk about the sonogram and his joy, his heart was throbbing where he knew he needed to bring up Sam and Jess, too. He had no idea where to start, but luckily, after a few minutes of eating in a contemplative silence, Castiel looked up into his eyes, and the smile on his husband’s lips gave him the confidence he needed. 

“So, second trimester.” Dean stated. It was a nervous, edgy start, but it was a start. 

Castiel smiled, nodding his head almost in disbelief. Dean knew he’d never truly believed they’d make it this far. “Yeah.” Cas breathed. “I keep staring at the photo.” 

“Me too.” Dean grinned. “I still can’t believe that’s our baby, though.” 

“I know.” Castiel nodded, going back to playing with his pasta with his fork. 

Dean paused, letting himself feel the atmosphere and how it changed. He could almost see the anxiety bubbling within his husband, could feel the nervous energy radiating away from him in waves. He just didn’t understand why Cas hadn’t been able to talk about it any more than that. He had to say _something_.

“Babe, are you _ok?_ ” He asked, letting his tone turn pointed. 

After a moment of contemplation, Castiel looked up. “Yeah, I am.” He smiled. 

“Are you sure?” Dean asked, fear reducing his voice so that it was barely even louder than a whisper. “Because this is good news, Cas, we should be excited about this.” 

“I am excited.” Castiel protested. “Dean, I’m fine, I’m just worried something will go wrong.” 

“I am too.” Dean sighed. “But you can’t live life thinking everything will turn out in the worst case scenario. And you say you’re fine, but you weren’t like this before everything happened last year.” 

“No, I know. I am still more anxious.” Cas agreed. “But we’ve never done anything so important before.” 

“We got married.” Dean pointed out. 

“Yeah, but there was never any doubt that that was the right thing to do.” 

Dean’s heart jumped in his chest. “You mean you don’t think having a baby is the _right thing to do?_ ” 

Castiel’s eyes went wide when he realised how his husband had taken the statement. “No! That’s not what I meant at all.” He breathed. “I just… I don’t know, it’s different. Our wedding was never not going to happen or go disastrously wrong. If there was an issue it was minor and would never be a big deal. This… I don’t know, it’s entirely out of our control, and I’m struggling with that.” 

“I know how much you like to take control.” Dean winked, while Castiel blushed and rolled his eyes.  “Cas… I just… I don’t feel like you’re excited.” He admitted. 

“Of course I’m excited!” Castiel complained. “I am, but I’m scared too.” 

“It’s not like I’m not scared.” Dean sighed. “But, I dunno, I know in my heart everything is going to be fine.” 

“I wish I shared your confidence.” 

“Babe, it will be fine, it will.” Dean sucked in a breath, and realised that he couldn’t let the opportunity slip. If he wanted to bring his brother into this equation then he had to do it now. “Cas, I know you don’t wanna tell anyone —”

“—No, I don’t.” Cas interjected, but he soon shut up when Dean shot him an exasperated glare. 

“But I _need_ to tell Sammy, and you ought to talk to Kevin too.” 

“Why?” Cas asked, and his expression proved he wasn’t keen on the suggestion. “We can just tell them when we know that the baby is going to be ok.” 

“Like when it’s out?” Dean rolled his eyes. He hadn’t meant to, but he was getting irritable. “It’s become need to know for Kevin. As soon as we get back he’s gunna have to start coming with us to hospital appointments all the fucking time. And I’m going mad not being able to talk to Sam about it. It’s a big deal, and I want to be able to share it with them. And at any rate, we found out about Lily at this point.”

“—That’s different.” Castiel protested. 

“No, it’s not different at all.” Dean smiled, but he was becoming frustrated. “Just because the method of conception was different… she’s still pregnant. We’re still passed the immediate danger zone, babe, and we need to relax. _Please_ Cas, I need to talk to my brother. But I want you to be ok with it before I do.”

Castiel paused, and Dean knew he’d almost persuaded him. He just wished he didn’t have to persuade him in the first place. He took a deep breath before opening his mouth again. “Cas, if things do go wrong, I want them to know so that they can help us through it.” Dean whispered.

With that, Castiel’s expression softened, and although he still chewed down nervously on his lip he reached his hand out across the table, and Dean tangled their fingers together with a sigh and a light smile, which Cas returned. He nodded once, and Dean felt the relief wash through him. “Ok.” Castiel breathed. 

Dean beamed, kissing his husband’s hand before picking his fork back up. “Thank you.” He said quietly, and Cas smiled. They finished their dinner peacefully, idly chatting as they lazily ate, comfortable and relaxed. 

A while passed before they’d finished, and when they had, Dean offered his hand out to his husband, who took it with a smile, pulling out of his chair and into a tight embrace. They walked through to the living room, flopping down onto the couch with tangled limbs, and Cas nuzzled his head to drag Dean’s lips against his own, gently kissing him until his lips parted, then licking into him as they made out slowly. 

With a happy smile, Dean pulled away a few minutes later, and Castiel searched his eyes for a brief moment until he nodded, sitting back upright in his chair. He could tell what Dean wanted. “Go on.” He said quietly. “Call them.” 

As if it was some sort of a trick, Dean hesitated for a moment, but he could see nothing but sincerity in Castiel’s eyes, so he smiled, sitting up too, and leant forward to flip open his computer ready to call his brother. He felt nervous now that it was actually about to happen. He just hoped they were both free enough to talk so neither he or Castiel could lose their nerve. 

It was obvious that Cas was panicking a little while the dial tones rang out, Dean could see it in the reflected video showing their faces. He shot his husband a look, smiled lightly, and breathed out a small sigh of relief when Cas let his lips curl in response and took his hand in his own. 

“Hey guys!” Came the soft lilt of Jess’s voice, always pleased to see and hear from them. Dean grinned at her, but his heart pounded at the sight of her, alone, on the couch. He so needed to speak to Sammy, where the fuck was he? 

“Hey Jess.” Castiel smiled brightly at the sight of their sister-in-law, but she tore her eyes away from the screen to momentarily look to her side, at something they couldn’t see, off camera. 

“Sorry, Sam’s just changing Lily. Bad timing.” She explained, but Dean sighed in relief. He could wait minutes, that wouldn’t be a problem. As the nurse looked back at them her expression turned into one of curious concern, and Dean could almost see her analysing their external appearances for any clue on how they were faring up. He knew they’d run away to the UK early, because of stressful circumstances, but that was months ago, now. It was like she didn’t believe that they were actually ok. “How are you both? When are you coming home?” 

“A couple of weeks, probably.” Castiel said. “We’ll come and see you when we’re back, if you want?”

“We’ve actually both got a week off in a month’s time.” Jess explained. “If you’re going to be back and it wouldn’t be a hassle, it would be nice to come to you, change of scenery and all?” She suggested. 

Castiel jumped at the chance, nodding and smiling, making suggestions for future plans out loud, while Dean watched her with just as much curiosity. She’d known when they were going to be back, because he’d told Sam when they’d talked yesterday. Maybe they wanted to come to their place so they could check up on them, keep tabs. He narrowed his eyes a little, but tried not to worry about it. She’d realise they were fine when he could tell her their news. 

“We’re good, Jess.” He said, though, just to make the point. She smiled as her eyes locked onto his, although the weird camera angle made it look like she was looking away. 

As if on cue, though, the looming shadow that was his ridiculously tall younger brother appeared, and Sam flopped down onto his couch next to his wife with a goofy grin that still made Dean proud. He’d never regret taking hit after hit considering it meant that this kid grew up to be the man he was today. He’d have handled things with Cas differently, yeah, but he’d take every one of John’s blows for Sam again, if he had to. 

“You good?” The moose asked, grinning, but curiously. “I didn’t think you were gunna call again until the weekend?” 

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Cas breathed, and Dean looked at him, unsure how to take the blush on his husband’s cheeks. And unsure how to part with their news. Should he just blurt it out? Should he let Cas? Why was this so difficult? “Uh… any news?” Castiel continued, buying some time as if his mind was processing the same thoughts as Dean’s.

“Apart from our eighteen month old daughter hitting the terrible twos half a year early, we’re out.” Sam rolled his eyes, but the smirk on his lips remained. 

Dean scoffed a laugh, recalling the story Sammy had recounted to him yesterday. He’d meant to tell Cas about it, it was hilarious. “Oh yeah.” He chuckled. “Sam told me about Olive Garden.” 

“Olive Garden?” Cas asked, turning his head to look at his husband. 

Jess rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we went out to eat last weekend, and Lily thought it would be funny to grab a handful of her food and throw it right into the server’s face. I mean right in his face, too. I swear we’d have got kicked out of there if her laugh wasn’t so contagious. We hadn’t even started eating, like he was literally just bringing the food out.” 

Dean sat there trying not to laugh — failing miserably — while he looked at his brother, who was holding in his own chuckles at the memory. Castiel, obviously the better actor, couldn’t suppress his smile but he did stay quiet while Jess glared at Dean.

“You should have been there if you think its so funny, it was mortifying!” She protested. 

“I’m sure it was, Jess, but you have to admit, it’ll make a good story for her eighteenth.” Dean grinned, and by this point Sam was laughing fully. 

“Well when we’re down with you in Hollywood you can take her out for dinner and see how much fun it really is.” Jess pouted. “It might have been funnier if we hadn’t had to pay for the guy’s dry cleaning as well as an extra big tip.” 

“He got a story out of it, too.” Sam chuckled, wincing as his wife playfully punched his shoulder in protest. 

“Anything new with you guys?” Jess asked, obviously ready to turn the subject away from disobedient daughters. 

Dean twisted his head to look at his husband, who looked lost for words, and swallowed thickly before opening his mouth slowly. He wasn’t sure what Cas wanted, but he thought it might be better if Cas were the one to say it, because he couldn’t be sure the actor wouldn’t change his mind. 

“We do have news.” Cas said quietly, his eyes still locked on Dean’s, and the mechanic relaxed, because this was his confirmation that they were going through with this.

“Yeah…?” Sam asked expectantly. 

“We… uh… we’re… you’re…” Cas stuttered. “You won’t be alone any more… in… you know, being parents.” 

The eyes of both Sam and his wife narrowed immeasurably the instant he’d shut his mouth, but it was surprise that Dean could see in their expressions when he glanced briefly back at the screen. The questions hung in the air unanswered, but Dean knew exactly what they were and if his husband couldn’t do it, he intended to answer them. 

“We’re having a baby.” He said, smiling involuntarily at the thought. At his face, Castiel’s eyes lit up too, a beautiful, gorgeous grin pulling at the corner of his lips. Saying it out loud to someone new made it feel so much more real. “That’s why we called… we’re going to be fathers.” 

“You… what?” Jess asked in disbelief, but it was a happy shock he could see on her face, not that he was paying her much attention, when Cas was staring at him with love and lust in his eyes. 

“You’re… oh my god, guys, that’s incredible news.” Sammy gushed, and Dean would have joked about him sounding like a girl if he wasn’t feeling so goddamned happy right now. Cas was beaming at him like they were the only important people in the world, and for a moment, he believed that they were. 

“Congratulations!” Jess finally exclaimed, a bright smile on her lips that showed her pure joy for them. “When… er… how?” She settled finally on the question, and Dean smirked, glancing down at the floor.

“Charlie.” Castiel took over the explanation for him. “She’s being our surrogate. We just had the second sonogram, she’s about thirteen weeks pregnant, so yeah, by the end of October, we should be a family.” 

“I can’t explain how pleased I am for you both.” Sam was still beaming, and Dean nodded, wishing he was there in person to hug his brother for real. He settled on squeezing his husband’s hand. 

“We’ll celebrate when we come down.” Jess promised. “You two deserve this, you deserve all the happiness in the world.” 

 

*

 

They’d decided to tell the chief of security their news when they could get him alone. What came as a surprise to them, however, was how rarely that actually occurred. The deal that Castiel had eventually agreed to included Kevin, and Kevin alone. Crowley and the rest of the staff and security detail that so often accompanied them day by day were explicitly not to be included in the knowledge, and Cas hadn’t wanted to arouse suspicions by outright asking to speak to him on their own, so another week passed easily by before they even found a moment where they could speak to him in private. 

About a week before their departure back to LA, their chance came. While the last time they’d returned from an extended stay in the UK, Dean had dreaded their return, this time, he was looking forward to getting back. This time they had hope in the form of their baby, and their lives were finally stable. It was a far cry from returning home to Castiel’s terminally ill mother, and even the memory sent a pang of sadness through Dean’s heart. 

Castiel only had a day or two left on set, depending on how things went the day after tomorrow, and they only had to hang around for a couple more interviews and one award ceremony before heading home. They had to go back soon at any rate, because the Met Gala was only a couple of weeks away and they had other commitments to think about, too.

So tonight they were travelling back from a talk show that Dean had been invited on, showing his last promo for this stint in the UK. Every time he was on stage it came just that little bit more naturally, and it had taken him some time to recover from all the shit that had happened to them last year, but he was finally back on track, and the press seemed to love it. Almost as much as they loved asking him about Cas just to watch him go all goopy on stage like a fucking thirteen year old girl with a crush. 

He couldn’t help it, the guy was some sort of god. 

Now they were in the car, the driver up front, alone, and Cas, Dean, Naomi and Kevin all sat in the back. Cas had only just finished teasing Dean about that last question he’d answered. The guy had only had to ask how Cas was and he’d gone bright red and answered _amazing_ with stupid dreamy eyes that had come out without his conscious permission. He could have said _he’s well_ , or _we’re good_ , but he was so head over heels since they'd got back together that he couldn’t help but embarrass himself daily. Regardless, Cas pressed a kiss into his cheek while Dean smiled, looking coyly at the floor in front of his feet. Until Naomi kicked his foot in a manner that could have been more subtle, and he looked straight up into her pointed stare. 

He should have realised the situation they were in, sooner. He’d only been bitching to Naomi about not having had a chance to talk to Kevin two days ago. He cottoned on to the fact just as Cas turned to look at him curiously, and his cheeks pinked up again, like it was his permanent colour. The movie star narrowed his eyes a little while Dean tried to portray with his stare what he was getting at, but he clearly wasn’t obvious enough, and Cas just looked back at him blankly. 

Even though they’d told Sam and Jess, and Cas had agreed to let Kevin in on their secret, Dean still felt awkward every time he had to bring it up. The actor’s anxiety seemed to be improving with every day that they received no bad news, but it was still obvious whenever their future was mentioned that he was harbouring those same dark concerns. Dean just wished he understood, that there was something he could do to help. He just didn’t understand enough to be able to offer a solution, and Cas still got a bit cagey if they talked about it. 

They had to make the most of this opportunity, though. Next week Charlie had an appointment they had to go to, so Kevin had to be aware by then or he was going to have a very uncomfortable morning figuring out why they were there by himself. 

When Cas just continued to look at him like he had no idea what he was getting at, Dean reluctantly leant in, hovering his lips millimetres from his husband’s ears as he whispered his reminder. And as soon as he was done speaking, Cas pulled back to look at him, those eyes betraying that slight panic he was still incubating deep within him. 

But, to his credit, the actor stood by his word, and nodded. 

Naomi, on watching the exchange, smiled, fiddling with the controls to ensure their separation from the driver and that the microphones were off and that their conversation was officially, 100% private. Dean eyed her gratefully when he’d finally torn his eyes away from Castiel’s, and he could see the glimmer of anticipation within her. He’d come to the conclusion that she was about as excited that they were having this baby as they were themselves, although she’d never admit to it. She had no children of her own, and he wondered if she looked at them as her sons. She was certainly filling the role of a grandparent pretty well, and nowadays she was the closest thing to a mother either of them had left, if a little younger than either of theirs would have been.

“Kevin?” Castiel asked cautiously, and Dean broke out of his stupor to meet the curious expression in the security chief’s eyes. Kevin nodded, a man of few words. “We have some news that we want to share with you… but only with you.” 

As Cas trailed off, his eyes gravitated naturally back to Dean’s, and he smiled in support, knowing this was his prompt to take over. “Everyone else is going to find out eventually.” Dean added. “But for now, it needs to stay between the four of us.” 

Eyes narrowing further in curiosity, Kevin nodded again. 

“We’re having a baby.” Dean said simply, and he was completely unable to do anything about the smile that overwhelmed his face. 

And because of its brightness, Kevin couldn’t help but return it, and his lips curled up too, eyes lighting up happily for his bosses, who really he considered friends. Both Naomi and Castiel were beaming too, and the only other time Dean could remember everyone looking so happy was their wedding day. 

“Congratulations.” Kevin said eventually, and a happy laugh carried his voice as he leaned forward in his seat to wrap his arms around Dean, and then Castiel, in a celebratory hug. “I… that’s great news, guys. You both deserve it. I’m really happy for you both.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really impressed with my own timing lol, the bit with the Oscars has been written for months, it's totally coincidental that I'm posting the day after the real ones! 
> 
> Just so you know, we're on the home stretch now. I'm tweaking the final chapters etc but I think it'll total to 51 or 52. And It's not gunna be completely plain sailing because y'know, that's hardly my style, but I promise I'm not going to be so mean as I have been, because they've been through enough shit!
> 
> As per usual, back Thursday!


	45. Gunna Set My Soul on Fire

Bright light city gonna set my soul,

**Gonna set my soul on fire,**

Got a whole lot of money that's ready to burn,

So get those stakes up higher.

 

The invitation had been fondly received by them both, but it had been Dean that had pushed hardest to attend. What better way to say goodbye to life without children than one last blowout in Vegas? Dean had argued. Especially considering Sam had been invited to come along, too. Couldn’t deprive the kid of the experience, after all. And besides, they’d not had bachelor parties before their wedding, so wasn’t this kind of the next best thing? 

Chris Pratt had arranged the weekend to celebrate Adam Scott’s birthday. It turned out that everyone who’d starred in Parks and Recreation were still the best of friends. It was an idea Dean could more than get behind, having loved the show as it had aired, he was keen to become even friendlier with the cast. This particular weekend was men only, and if he was honest, he couldn’t think of a more hilarious way to spend his time than with Ron Swanson in a casino. 

The movie star had hardly needed much persuading, however, and soon they found themselves arriving in what might be the fanciest fucking hotel room Dean had ever set foot in. He had to say, Castiel had gone all out this time. He stepped inside the Bellagio’s presidential suite and his mouth was dropping a little in awe. Just as he’d been starting to get comfortable with the whole celebrity deal, used to his luxuries and being able to buy whatever the fuck he wanted, he found himself speechless once again, acutely aware of exactly _who_ his husband was, and exactly who he’d become himself. 

The suite was richly decorated with art and vibrant furnishings, a satisfying mix of leather and upholstery, mink wall tones complemented by contrasting pink orchids, a log fire already burning for their arrival. There was a fully functional, complimentary bar, a hot tub, two bathrooms and two bedrooms, and if it hadn’t been costing them the best part of six thousand bucks a night Dean would have quite happily moved in. The position high up the building gave them an incredible view of the sun setting over the Las Vegas skyline, of the fountain and the replica Eiffel Tower and all that the city had to offer. 

He was still looking down at it all in awe, wondering how in hell he’d deserved to get so lucky and whether the view from Sam’s suite (that they had of course paid for) was anywhere near as nice— his brother was only a few floors down, so it probably didn’t vary too much — when his husband snuck up behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and letting his chin rest on his shoulder. Dean could feel Kevin’s eyes burning into the back of their skulls as he looked around hastily at the enormous suite, but the security chief was grinning when he glanced over his shoulder to meet his gaze, and Kevin bustled off into his own room ready to change. 

They had dinner plans tonight, but they were all a little tuckered out from the five hour car journey. Dean would have just as happily let Castiel take him to bed already, but he could hardly let Sammy down. 

They unpacked over the course of the next half an hour, the action taking so long because they kept getting distracted by each other’s lips and by the view, and when they were done, Cas strolled into their ridiculously large bathroom, so Dean didn’t think to follow him. At least, not until he heard the faucet running into the tub, and his husband appeared at the doorway with a bottle of bubblebath and a smirk on his lips. 

Dean was almost completely undressed by the time he made it into the bathroom, and Castiel beamed as he helped him the rest of the way, tugging his t-shirt over his head and shuffling his boxer briefs over his ass. The clawfoot tub was set back from the wall, which was made of glass that stretched up to the ceiling, and the view was entirely spectacular. The movie star, who pretended not to be romantic, had lit candles and dimmed the lights, and from a speaker system somewhere soft, relaxing music was calling out into their ears. Dean thought about teasing his husband about his ‘whale sounds’, but thought better of it, because Cas had that doting look in his eyes that Dean knew meant tonight would be all about him. He just prayed Castiel wasn’t going to make him wait until after dinner, because he didn’t need to sit at a table with all those celebrities, and his brother no less, with a raging hard-on. 

Castiel began working on his own remaining clothing, then, unbuttoning his shirt so slowly that Dean felt his cock twitch just at the tease. The actor beamed, shuffling the cotton off of his arms before stepping out of his boxers, too. He turned, leaning over the tub with his perfectly tight, round ass presented nicely, as he tested the temperature of the water and fiddled with the faucets to get it cooler for them both. Dean wondered if this was part of the tease, and his cock did start to fill up at the sight. Since that night at the Oscars, where Dean had threatened to fuck his husband, he and Cas had started to switch sometimes. He did enjoy it, truly, he did. The movie star’s stupidly muscled, toned body was tight in all of the right places, and he had a power to him that he only showed Dean. The feeling on his cock was something else altogether, and he would come hard and fast while Cas worked himself on top of him, splattering his stomach after a few tugs at his own dick. 

But, Dean reasoned with himself. He definitely preferred being the bottom. 

Maybe it was a bit selfish, always wanting the best of both worlds. But he fucking loved being filled, and on the nights where he’d been inside Castiel he’d craved desperately to have something inside him, too, like it was an addiction. His prostate almost yelled at him in protest every time it didn’t get touched, and he was having to resist pushing his fingers inside just for something to alleviate the ache. Except for that one night, where Castiel had ridden him backwards while fucking a massive dildo into him. It wasn’t quite Castiel’s perfect, thick cock, but _that night_ , he’d been almost in heaven. 

Tonight though? No, tonight he needed Cas to complete him. 

As soon as the tub was filled, Castiel switched off the faucet and lowered himself down into the warm water, humming happily as his tired joints were soothed. Dean wasted no time in joining him, stepping up to the tub and carefully climbing inside, too. He sat between Castiel’s legs, letting his back rest against his husband’s chest as he hummed happily at the warmth and the safety. The actor fastened his hands around Dean’s stomach, pressing soft, gentle kisses against his temple as they relaxed peacefully, the lighting changing subtly as the candles flickered behind them. 

They spent a while just letting their bodies adjust to the temperature and the peace, but after some time, maybe twenty minutes, maybe half an hour, Castiel’s hand started to drift lower, the kisses on Dean’s temple getting wetter and more desperate. Dean was gasping by the time his husband’s fingers rolled across his balls, and the hand tracked up to the base of his hardening cock as it was gently stroked. When Dean shifted, twisting so that their lips could hurriedly meet and tangle together insistently, Castiel’s erection pressed against his back and he pushed against it, eliciting a moan from the movie star. 

Their lips pulled apart from each other as Cas took Dean’s cock in his hand and slowly started to work the length, leaving Dean choking in an unsteady breath inches from his husband’s face. But he stared up into his husband’s loving eyes, and in case Cas was still unsure what he needed tonight, he took his spare hand and dipped it between his own legs, leading his husband to his entrance in a silent plea. 

With a smile on his lips, Castiel obliged him, Dean spreading his legs as wide as the tub would allow as the movie star delved a finger to his hole, teasing his needy rim while Dean groaned with anticipation. He hadn’t been fucked in a week, and his ass wasn’t happy about it. His hips swung forward in a weak attempt to force the finger inside, and Castiel smirked into their kiss, dragging his lips away to shoot him a shit-eating grin. 

“Needy, are we?” The movie star whispered, voice a low rumble that vibrated the rest of Dean’s blood into his cock and left none for brain function. The mechanic just nodded, unable even to beg when Castiel _finally_ pushed his index inside up to his first knuckle, giving an experimental stretch and pull. “You miss having my cock buried deep inside you? Or is it the window?” Cas teased. “Is it the fact that anyone could be looking in that’s got you so riled?” 

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Dean always loved the thrill that came with the risk of being caught. He hadn’t spared much thought for the massive window next to them, but the more he thought about it the more turned on it made him. His response died on his tongue as Castiel wormed the finger in deeper, only to pull out, adding a second that just brushed passed his prostate and made his cock ooze precome into the water around them. It felt weird without lubricant, but being underwater had a similar effect. Cas stretched him and pulled, scissoring open as he let out small moans. He missed feeling this amazing, this loved and cared for. Cas didn’t get even half as controlling when he was bottoming, and although Dean loved being allowed his free reign on those nights, he felt like he was missing out if he didn’t unleash the almost dominating sex god inside his husband. 

“Maybe, if you love being such an exhibitionist…” Castiel began, working a third finger inside and leaving Dean panting and struggling not to come. Cas slowed his pace on Dean’s cock in response, just as eager to make this last. “Maybe I should fuck you up against it. So you can really show everyone how easily I can take you apart.” 

And oh holy fucking god, how Dean held on and didn’t let his orgasm take him at that moment he’d never really know, but he suspected Castiel squeezing, hard, on the base of his cock had helped. A whelp had left his lips without his consent, and his limbs shook. Cas maintained that pressure there while he fucked him open with his fingers, keeping Dean already at the edge, only letting go as he pulled out from inside him with a satisfied noise. He made no move then, though, to touch Dean anywhere, and the mechanic felt the sensation receding as he turned his head to glare into Castiel’s eyes, as if questioning exactly why the action had stopped. 

But Cas just raised an eyebrow, a dare almost, and Dean smashed their lips back together in an angry, heated clash that left him desperate for touch. He was rewarded, though, because Cas pulled away, lifted his ass gently, lined up, and plunged him back down, spearing him onto his cock while Dean’s lungs imploded, struggling for air. 

The movie star thrusted up, once, twice, three times, before stilling, and it was torture, fresh and pure, that he was filled without the pleasure to go with it. 

“ _Please_.” Dean could hear himself begging, but he could barely catch Castiel’s eye from where he was angled behind him, and the actor was holding his hips still to keep him from riding forward himself. “Cas, fuck, _please._ ” 

“You know where I want you.” 

Dean looked down to where his cock was just poking out of the water, and watched as it throbbed expectantly at those words, a drop of precome leaking out of him and dripping down the head. Holy fuck, he was so turned on right now. But the window… was it too far? What if someone _did_ actually see? As much as it should terrify him, Dean’s cock twitched again at the thought.

Decision made, he swallowed, pulling off unhappily and clambering out of the tub to kneel on the floor, leant against the glass, legs spread and ass ready for Castiel’s use. His hole protested emptily, dripping water that Cas had trapped up there that felt uncomfortably gross. Dean was watching the world go by as he waited patiently, lights from cars and buildings shining their way up to him, the fountain exploding up sporadically, jets of water shooting into the air with force. And there he was, showing his painfully hard, dripping cock off to the world as he waited for his husband to fuck him in front of them all. 

Soon enough, Castiel’s hand found his shoulder, and the other dipped between his cheeks again, maintaining that stretch as Cas pressed their bodies together. His husband’s cock rubbed against his sacrum and Dean cursed at the tacky feel of the head as it dribbled against his already damp skin. Cas rutted forwards a few times while he idly fingered him, just delaying the inevitable, they both knew. Dean was ready. 

Thankfully, though, the actor’s impatience got the better of him, and not even a minute passed before the thick head of Castiel’s cock was teasing his rim again. Cas pressed forward at Dean’s plea, but only enough to sink the head inside. A hand found its way around to Dean’s balls, softly fondling as Cas pulled back out, only to sink his teeth into Dean’s shoulder while the mechanic writhed. 

“Cas, please, _please_ , I… I’m so — ah fuck.” The fingers had trailed up to Dean’s cock again, gentle squeezes that had yet more precome falling onto the floor. His voice cracked as he spoke, dangerously close to a sob that was purely overwhelming. “Please fuck me.” 

Dean felt Castiel smile against his cheek, landing his lips once more against his temple, but once again his husband’s cock found his rim, and Dean gasped as it pushed inside, still just the head, but once he’d adjusted Cas started to sink deeper, and Dean found himself buckling down with the intensity. It was rough and it burned where water was their only lube, but somehow the pain made it more tantalising. Castiel took his time, slowly pulling back only to smash in further when Dean had loosened around him. That last thrust smacked into his prostate, and Dean wailed unashamedly. There were four walls between them and Kevin, anyway. 

“More.” Dean found the words to beg. “Please, Cas, please, I need _more_.” 

“You want this, too?” Castiel asked, pumping Dean’s cock in his firm hand a little experimentally, while Dean just nodded, gasping for air in front of him. “How does it make you feel, knowing that anyone could see us right now? That anyone could see how much you’re begging for it?” 

It probably wasn’t _right_ , Dean knew, but the knowledge was only seeking to hurry along his nearing crescendo. Anyone could see his hot breaths and clammy fingers hitting the window pane, anyone could see his dripping cock in his husband’s hand, anyone could see how close he was to exploding all over the glass, and that was doing it for him. After a particularly firm thrust, Castiel shifted, shuffling forwards on his knees until Dean’s were forced against the glass, and then hammering back inside him until Dean’s body was flush with the pane. Cas let go of his cock, allowing the window to provide the pressure as his hands instead went to Dean’s hips, clutching him so hard he was sure to leave tiny bruises as he began to rock into him in a quick rhythm that had Dean choking. 

The glass began to fog up around them, Dean’s desperate breaths puffing out of him as he struggled painfully to cling on for the ride. It was a beyond useless attempt, because he was so fucking close, his cock leaking in a steady stream as his ass began to clench uncontrollably around Castiel’s pounding into it. 

“Are you going to come, Dean? All over the window where you know anyone could be watching?” Castiel breathed, but his own voice was catching now too, and Dean knew that his husband wouldn’t be far behind when he did let go. 

“Yes.” Dean promised, unsure how he was still able to speak. “Fuck. Yes. So close.” 

And at that Castiel sped up, thrusts now erratic and desperate but quick beyond belief, and Dean choked. 

“Come.” Castiel commanded, and Dean did. 

His cock pulsed, a thread of come shooting up to his chest during a backwards pull before his orgasm really took him. His head throbbed at the same rate as his cock, and he was screaming at the intensity of the wave that crashed through him. His limbs shook, and his come poured over the window pane and dripped to the floor, coating his chest as he was pushed back against the glass with the next thrust. He couldn’t breathe, and everything tingled, and Castiel kept up his ridiculous pace and smashed his prostate time and time again until finally he was writhing. Cas only fucked forwards a few more times before his hips stuttered to a stop, and as his husband’s chest collapsed against his back, Dean felt Castiel’s come squeezing from his hole while he tried desperately to catch his breath. 

Cas pulled out slowly, sitting back onto his ass and dragging Dean back between his legs. Come was still pulsing out of Dean’s ass, but they paid it no mind as they sat together admiring the view. No more mind than the Dean shaped fog stain on the window, complete with splashes of semen. Dean sighed, settling back against his husband’s chest, cooling off as they came down from their high, until eventually Cas suggested they get back into the tub and actually wash off, which in all honesty, sounded pretty good considering Dean was dirty on almost every side of his body, now. 

 

*

 

The following night had seen Castiel get drunker than he had for some time. The last time he’d been quite so wasted was probably back when they were dating each other after everything with Chuck. Tonight, he wasn’t making particularly good choices. Neither was Dean, or Sam, or anyone else they were out with, in his defence, but Kevin and the other security they had with them were sober enough to keep them alive, so they’d be fine, right? 

They were at a casino, with Chris Pratt, his Guardians of the Galaxy co-star Bradley Cooper (yes, Dean’s joke regarding The Hangover had gone down about as well as expected), some of the other guys from Parks and Recreation, Aziz Ansari, Adam Scott, (Nick Offerman had been around but he’d left now), and a few of their friends that Cas didn’t know. Sam had fit in pretty well, was laughing, joking, exchanging manly banter. Cas could hardly take his eyes off of his husband. 

It had been Dean’s idea, to play roulette. Castiel had never gambled before, had no idea what he was doing, but he’d withdrawn some cash, exchanged it for chips, and his far from sober brain had thought it a great idea to throw it all on one bet. All forty thousand. Probably not the best idea, he’d thought afterwards, but his drunken mind was confident enough, and Dean’s lips on his neck made him feel like it was the right move as his husband talked him through what to do. 

So imagine their surprise, when the bet came in. He laughed, beaming, as he tried to pick up all the chips they presented him with, but they started to slip from between his fingers because there were just too damn many. Dean was gaping at his side, muttering something about _beginner’s luck_ , but Cas didn’t really understand what was happening and he didn’t care all that much either. He took Sam by the shoulder, who was laughing happily at his brother-in-law’s success, and told him to take the chips, cash them in, and deposit them in his bank. The lawyer didn’t seem to to understand the magnitude of what Cas was saying, and Cas hadn’t really considered the magnitude of what he was doing. He didn’t need the money, and he didn’t really want it. The rush of the win was nice, and he could see how it could get addictive. Dean was whispering about quitting while they were on top, and Cas was done playing, now his husband was all but nibbling on his neck.

After Sam had sorted out their winnings, they left the building, following their celebrity friends as they ambled along the Las Vegas strip. Castiel hadn’t figured out where they’d taken him until they’d reached the inside of the place, and his eyes narrowed a little, the floor spinning even more for his efforts, when he took in the stage and the scantily clad women dancing against metal poles. Strangely enough, strip clubs hadn’t ever been his idea of a good time. 

They all filed into a booth, Bradley and Chris ordering another round of drinks that none of them truly needed, but Cas just shrugged as he sipped at the next glass of champagne that was settled in front of him. Dean hadn’t touched his yet, still at his side, clutching him tightly around the middle. He was a little clingy, tonight. Had been since yesterday when they’d fucked in the bathroom. Cas didn’t mind, he liked when Dean acted a little dependent every now and then. It was nice to feel so _needed_. 

Some minutes passed with chatting and comments about the women that, were they elsewhere, would have been wildly inappropriate, but Cas chose to ignore them. Dean had sat himself upright, still had a hand on his leg, but he was staring off into the distance in a daze. Cas followed his eye, and while his rational mind was sure that the blank stare was because his husband was _just that drunk_ , he felt a bitter flare of jealousy when a blonde dancer entered his vision, her pert breasts bouncing as she slut-dropped, squatting with the pole between her legs and a glimmer in her eyes. 

Yeah, not on his watch. Cas lifted a hand to Dean’s cheek, drawing the mechanic’s attention his way, relief blossoming in his chest as that familiar smile tugged at the corner’s of Dean’s beautiful, plump lips. He leant in then, kissed him deeply, and Dean melted against him, submitting entirely to Castiel’s dominating lips. 

As Castiel’s tongue dipped inside his husband, Dean let out a little gasp that did not go unheard by the rest of the group. The actor couldn’t help but smile against his husband’s lips as their friends teased them, but he didn’t care either, not enough to stop. His spare hand went to Dean’s waist and pulled him closer, his husband clinging desperately to his side. But he had to stop, now, because he could feel a stirring in his groin and yeah, even Sam was there. This wasn’t the show the men had come in here to see. So reluctantly, he let go, but Dean did look a little disappointed when he dragged his lips away eventually. 

The hour that they spent in the strip club passed slower than the rest of the night had. Whether that was because Castiel was slowly starting to sober up, or because this was so far from his scene he was getting uncomfortable, he didn’t know. But it helped, though, to know that whenever Dean so much as looked at a woman he could pull him close and make out with him for a while, and his husband wouldn’t complain at all. 

They did leave, eventually, after receiving an invite to some exclusive party that a few other celebrities were attending. They’d all started to pile outside, and it was already 3.30am, while Chris spoke to their combined security detail about arranging transport to the other side of the town. 

While they were getting all of that stuff sorted, and Sammy was off chatting, Cas pulled Dean in again, desperate for more of his taste. He smiled as their lips pressed against each other’s, and a hand dropped to his husband’s ass, forgetting himself and where they were, as they gently pulled their bodies closely together. 

In that moment, everything was right in the world. 

Until it wasn’t. 

“You’re both so wrong, you’re sick in the head!” Castiel heard a shout, and when he dragged his lips reluctantly from Dean’s, he looked over to see a bunch of rough, redneck looking guys in a bunch, standing in the line for the strip club and looking their way. 

“You’re bent!” Another yelled. 

“If you like it up the ass so much, leave the women for those of us that are normal enough to know how to use them!” His friend chimed in. 

Although his heart had sunk impossibly quickly, and his limbs were shaking, Castiel had made his way over before he could even hear the next words to leave the one guy’s mouth. 

“No wonder his old man did what he did to him.” 

Before he even knew what was happening, Castiel’s hand had balled itself into a fist. He’d have thrown the punch, too, he’d have leapt over the rail and laid into the guy with the force of a freight train, had he not been held back. Dean’s hand grabbed his shoulder at just the right moment, tugging him back, but it was too late. 

A different fist collided with Dean’s face before Cas could pull him out of the way, and his husband stumbled limply back. 

It seemed to Cas like time slowed down. In his peripheral vision, he watched as all hell broke loose. He could see Kevin and the rest of their security detail charging forward, weapons out and pointed at the men that had harmed them. He could see Sam, running towards his brother with horror in his eyes. He could see the gloating faces of the men slowly changing, panic and regret washing through them all at once. He could see Dean, walking away with his head hung. 

So Castiel turned to tear after his husband, and he was vaguely aware of the taser going off, of the security rounding into the spot they’d just vacated. He caught up with Dean, hand finding his shoulder, and without even thinking they stepped out into the road, causing more than one car to swerve around them as they hurried across the carriageway. Anything to get away, anything to be alone. 

They stumbled blindly forward for only another sixty seconds or so, long enough to find a dark alleyway and fall into it. Dean slid down a wall, dropped to his ass as soon as they were safe, and Cas fell to his knees in front of him, pulling his husband’s face onto his shoulder. He was vaguely aware of the blood on his hands that was still trickling onto his shirt, and he was with it enough to know that Dean was hurt, but all he could focus on right now was how Dean wasn’t breathing, and even though he begged and begged, he still couldn’t hear the sound of inhalation he needed so badly to hear.

He tried, hell he really tried, but the alleyway was spinning and their hearts were pounding. Cas tried to hum his breathing, in and out, in and out, but he knew his own breaths were scared and ragged and fuck did he want to be at home right now, anywhere they could be safe and happy and whole. It had been ages since Dean’s last attack, and his lack of response now was scaring him half to death. He held him closely, and he tried. 

Minutes passed, maybe five, maybe ten. Before long Kevin had tracked them down, was breathing out a deep sigh of relief as he spotted them huddled together in the alley, illuminated by his flashlight. Castiel just stared up at him, entirely mistrustful. Right now, he could have been sixteen again, because the world was just as against him now as it was back then. He was freaking out, desperately panicked, and he knew he was doing nothing to help Dean out of his state but that wasn’t making it any easier to come round. 

“Let me see.” Kevin demanded, crouching close as soon as he reached them. Castiel just glared at him with mistrust in his eyes, because although it wasn’t his fault he was meant to keep Dean _safe_. He just shook his head, because what Dean needed right now was comfort, not to stare into the eyes of someone who’d let them down. “Novak, I need to see. He’s unconscious.” 

Again, Castiel just shook his head, because Kevin had it all wrong, didn’t he? His husband was having an attack, he wasn’t knocked out. He heard himself say as much, and Kevin frowned. 

“I need to see.” 

“No.” 

“Castiel—” 

“—No.”

“Cas, please.” 

And at the break in Kevin’s voice, finally Castiel’s wall cracked. As he looked into the security guard’s eyes he could see that everything he was thinking was echoed right back at him. It was pretty damned far from Kevin’s fault, and tomorrow, he’d tell him as much, but the guard was taking this failing pretty personally. He needed the win as much as Cas needed the help. Reluctantly, he nodded, and he realised that with Kevin’s presence his own breathing had levelled and Dean’s had improved. Cas pulled back from his husband, but Dean’s eyes were wide, and a slither of air sucked into his lungs as the mechanic shook his head and dived again for his husband’s chest, burying his face deep where it wouldn’t be disturbed. 

The proof was enough for Kevin, although by now they were both alarmed at the amount of blood pouring down one half of Dean’s face. From what Cas could tell, he had a cut near his eye. They’d be lucky if the eye wasn’t black by the morning. 

“We gotta get him to a hospital.” Kevin whispered hurriedly, running his hands through his hair. “You know that right? He might need treatment.” 

“No hospitals.” Dean managed to spit, and the anger in his tone left no room for argument, so none left the security guard’s lips. Kevin did roll his eyes though, pretty damn obviously, and he sighed long and hard as he radioed for a car to take them back to the Bellagio. It was only blocks away, really, but there was no way they could all walk there like this. 

“Just keep pressure on that cut.” Kevin said eventually to Castiel, and although Dean hissed when the wound was touched, Cas breathed out loudly and slowly as he held his sleeve against his husband’s bleeding eye. 

A little while later, and Cas was struggling to climb to his feet with Dean’s face still buried firmly against him. With his hands under his husband’s arms he lifted though, and they succeeded in standing for long enough that they could be ushered into the back of the van that was collecting them. They slipped in together, and Castiel’s sodden sleeve found its way back to Dean’s eye even though his husband whimpered. 

 

*

 

They’d continued to cling to each other for the five minutes it took to get back to the Bellagio, and the four more it took to navigate through the hotel and ride the elevator up to their floor. Now though, Kevin was swiping the keycard to their suite and filing in with them, and the rush of relief when the door swung closed behind them and Cas felt finally safe was unreal. 

The security guard hovered awkwardly as Cas slowly edged Dean’s face from his chest and led him to the couch. Kevin followed slowly, unsurely, and took a seat away from them as Cas began to properly study his husband’s wound. Dean still looked like he would rather be being held, but Cas knew they had to tend to the cut more urgently, now that his brain had almost entirely sobered up. He settled for pressing a kiss against his husband’s clean temple instead of clutching him again, and Dean looked grateful when he moved his lips away. 

It wasn’t particularly deep, the cut. It would probably heal just fine without stitches, as it were. It just seemed to have caught something vascular, because although the bleeding had definitely slowed, there was still a stubborn ooze when Cas took his sleeve away. The actor turned to his security chief and offered him a small smile of forgiveness, one that Kevin failed to return. It was obvious how guilty he felt, from how his usually confident aura was weakened and uncertain. Cas asked gently if he could find them a first aid kit, and Kevin nodded, getting to his feet and searching the suite. 

“I didn’t mean to… I— I lost… It’s the first time.” Dean stuttered, barely a whisper, when Kevin had slipped into another room. He sounded like he was trying to apologise and explain himself, not that he needed to at all. Cas had been the one that had been stupid enough to go to confront them. He should have just ignored it, shouldn’t have risen to it. It had just riled him so much. “Since him. It’s the first time I’ve been hit.” 

But Castiel already knew that, and if anything he thought that he should be the one apologising. He hoped his expression was explaining that. His lips curled into a sad smile, and the hand that wasn’t dabbing Dean’s eye found his husband’s. Kevin returned moments later with a bright green box, and Cas opened it to remove some gauze which took the place of his stained sleeve in putting pressure on the cut while Dean winced. After a few minutes, when the bleeding had finally ceased, Cas slowly cleaned it up and dressed it inexpertly with more gauze and tape, remembering all of the times his mother had done this for Dean, and the times he’d tried himself. He could see the memories echoing in his husband’s mind as if they were replaying in his eyes, and it was breaking his heart that Dean had to feel this pain again. 

Behind them, Kevin looked broken too. Dean had smiled at him in reassurance, but Cas could see it had done nothing to help. He knew the security guard needed to feel useful, and although he wasn’t particularly hungry, he was sure that eating would help ward off their hangovers, so he forced a grin, and asked that Kevin order them some room service. 

Although he’d obliged, they all ate more or less in silence after their food had arrived, and although Cas knew damned well that the burgers they served here were usually amazing, it didn’t seem to taste so good on his lips, dampened by their dark moods. Dean too, was unusually quiet, and after they’d eaten Cas dropped his head into his hands, because he didn’t know how to get things back on track after this. Kevin turned to him after putting his empty plate back onto the cart, and it was with hesitation that the guard spoke. 

“I’ll leave a message for Naomi.” He said quietly, and Cas sighed, looking up to meet his eyes. He wanted to say he’d shoulder the burden, but he had no idea how. There was a long pause, where no one knew what to say, until finally, Kevin swallowed. “I’m going to bed.” 

And then they were alone again. Castiel looked his husband’s way, but Dean was staring at the floor, lips fidgeting with his unsettled feeling. 

“I‘m alright.” Dean sighed. “But I don’t want to sleep.” The mechanic explained, and he didn’t have to say anything more — Cas knew he’d suffer from nightmares if he nodded off while in this state — so although he was stupidly tired, he smiled, nodded, and pulled Dean back against him on the couch, grabbing an afghan that they curled in as he flicked on the TV, loading up Star Wars Episode IV and hitting play while his husband hummed happily. They could have been sixteen again in that moment. So many times Castiel had clung to a hurt Dean in their youth as they cuddled up in front of this movie. 

It was pretty difficult not to fall asleep, but Castiel managed to stay awake by pressing kisses into Dean’s hair. The movie was almost at its end by the time Dean next spoke. 

“The things they said, Cas.” He started, uncertain, and Castiel’s heart ached in his chest. “They’re not right, are they? This… us… it’s not wrong?” 

Castiel tried not to let his fear overwhelm him, but it was increasingly difficult and his heart pounded furiously at even the suggestion. He could hear John’s voice in his husband’s at that moment, and he knew they’d had a long night of fear and pain, but he hated that John and any reminder of him still had that same effect and made him doubt. 

“Don’t you ever think that.” Cas whispered in response, and he clutched Dean tighter. “I know you love me, and you know I love you. If you feel even half as strongly you’ll know it couldn’t ever be wrong, because it feels so fucking right to be with you.” 

And although Dean nodded, and let a sad smile ghost his lips, a tear skated down his cheek.


	46. True Perfection has to be Imperfect

**True perfection has to be imperfect,**

I know that that sounds foolish but it's true.

Day has come, now you'll have to accept.

Life inside your head we give to you.

 

They’d slept, after that. 

Some five hours later they were being woken by a tentative, less confident than usual knock on the door, and a careful voice calling through the wooden panel. “Novak, check out is in thirty.” 

So it was reluctantly, that Cas peeled his arms away from a warm Dean. He forced himself upright, leaning back against an extravagant headboard, grateful now for the burgers that they’d eaten in the early hours, because the pounding in his head was definitely dampened, but he could imagine how much harder it would have been. 

Dean stirred, hands coming up automatically to rub at his eyes and wincing as the ball of his hand pushed against his bruises. Cas glanced down towards him, heart falling when he took in the sight of the blue-purple that had enveloped the underneath of his eye, grown beyond the makeshift bandage over the cut. But despite the darkness that had clouded his husband’s mood in the night, Dean smiled up at him. 

“Do my injuries make me look more rugged?” He asked, and a chuckle cracked out of Cas from nowhere because he hadn’t been expecting Dean to make light of it so early. Dean’s smirk grew as his husband laughed, and Cas bent over him to press a kiss into his forehead in response. It was only when Castiel pulled back that Dean let his smirk reduce into a soft smile, and the laughter in his eyes transformed into an emotion more genuine. “I’m sorry for reacting that way.” He whispered. “It was nothing, really. I think it overplayed in my mind where I was so drunk and it escalated. I just couldn’t get a handle on it—”

“—Dean, you don’t need to explain. I get it, I do.” Cas soothed, and Dean’s smile broadened. “I just… are you ok?” 

“Yeah, Cas, I’m fine. I am. Although my eye is kinda throbbing. How bad is it?” 

“You’ve looked better.” Cas said truthfully. “But you’ve looked worse, too. Your eye is black, but the bandage is clean at least.” 

“Naomi isn’t going to be impressed, though.” Dean groaned, and Cas quirked up an eyebrow as if he was questioning how she could take issue with Dean being assaulted, but the realisation started to dawn on him as Dean shot him a pointed look. “The Met Gala, it’s on the weekend?” 

Oh god, Dean was right. Naomi would definitely not be impressed. They’d have to have a frank discussion about their path moving forwards. That was a problem for later in the day, though. “Don’t worry.” He sighed. “I’ll handle Naomi.” 

 

*

 

An hour or so later and they were headed back to LA in their car. The look on Sam’s face when they’d knocked on the door to his suite had been one of mixed fury and relief. Dean had shot him a joking smile, trying to make light of it, but by the look on Sam’s face, Cas knew he was more worried than he was letting on. 

Cas had felt guilty, late last night, when he’d realised that they’d left the younger Winchester to head back to the hotel alone. He’d confessed as much to Dean, but a message from Chris Pratt showed he’d been gracious enough to look out for him, had arranged him a car back to the Bellagio when they all were leaving. Cas felt guilty for not thinking of his brother-in-law, but at the time, thoughts of anything other than his husband had been flooded from his mind. 

Now, Sam was lounging out across one side of the limousine’s leather seats while a sleeping Dean leant back against Castiel on the other. Cas sighed, the arm that wasn’t wrapped around his husband’s front coming up to wipe away at his eyes. 

His heart was full of a dark dread that hadn’t shifted since those rednecks had opened their mouths last night. Considering how long he’d stayed in the closet for fear of a negative public reaction to his sexuality, he and Dean had been almost always accepted for the entirety of their relationship. Sure, there was always one asshole who’d post a homophobic comment online, but the vast majority of people he heard of or associated with took no issue with them. He’d been stupid enough to believe that public perception had changed. He wondered if the reason he was finding it so hard to accept the homophobia that had been spouted at them last night was because he just wasn’t used to it. 

Maybe he was a bit sheltered in Hollywood. But he couldn’t deny that last night’s events were weighing heavily on his mind and making him fear for his future. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” The younger Winchester, who looked as if he’d been watching Castiel for some time, piped up curiously. Cas inhaled slowly, looking over at Sam with a hesitant expression. 

“Sam, I… if people can be so hurtful to us…” He stuttered, face contorted with worry. “Then what are they going to be like to our baby?” 

Sam sighed, his eyes softening with pity that Cas wished didn’t need to be there. “They were just assholes. You know that, right?” Sam said, and Cas nodded. “You have to just believe in that, with all your heart. There are people out there who will criticise it and won’t agree with it, but you and I both know that they’re wrong. I’d hope that no one would be so cruel as to be unkind to your kid, Cas, but… I don’t know, although I guess people in LA are a bit more open minded than they are in some other parts of the country. But all you can do is rise above it. Take the moral high ground, because you two are better than that. You love Dean and he loves you, and you’ll both love your child and meet whatever he or she needs. That’s all that matters, really.” 

Cas smiled at that, expression turning thoughtful, and he nodded. “Thanks, Sam.” 

 

*

 

A little while after they’d dropped Sam off at the airport, their car rolled up their long gravelled driveway and slipped effortlessly into the garage. Dean had woken the first time they’d stopped, but after he’d said goodbye to his brother he’d settled easily back against Castiel and dozed again for the remainder of the journey. Cas was aching when he finally pulled out of the car. He took the hand that Dean left open in a silent offer, and squeezed his fingers between his own as they took the steps up to the main house. 

It was hardly a surprise that Naomi was waiting for them. Her messages since the incident last night had been frantic and furious, a concern that transcended the gap between professional and parental. So yeah, no one was shocked when they came face to face with her in the hall. 

“Good lord, look at you.” She muttered irritably, rushing forward to Dean as her gaze landed on his black eye. Her hand came out to cup his cheek, inspecting the damage with a scrutinising eye, tutting under her breath. 

“I’m fine, Nay.” Dean insisted, but he let her finish her examination all the same. 

“How the hell did this happen?” She demanded then, frustrations suddenly turning on as her glare found Kevin’s guilty expression. Cas couldn’t help but feel for the guy, particularly given that really, this was his own fault. If he’d just been less emotional and more rational. If he’d thought through his actions before rushing forward to confront those assholes, then Dean wouldn’t have gotten hurt trying to get him out of that situation. 

“Well—” Kevin started, his usually confident voice stuttering. 

“— It was my fault.” Cas interrupted. He couldn’t let the security guard, his friend, take the blame for this. “I heard what they were saying, and it upset me. I went to confront them. Dean was just trying to get me out of the way but he got hit.” 

“I wouldn’t say it was your _fault_.” Dean said then, to back him up. “You were trying to protect me. The stuff they were saying, Nay, it was aimed at me.” 

“It was aimed at us both.” Cas protested. “I just shouldn’t have been so hot-headed about it.” 

“Cas, I’m not blaming you—”

“—It doesn’t matter.” Naomi snapped then, ceasing the fruitless discussion instantly. “What matters is what we’re going to do about it.”

“What… what do you mean?" Dean asked curiously, voice a little smaller than usual and more nervous. 

“We have to press assault charges.” Cas said quietly. He’d have rather let it go, but there was no way Naomi would agree to that, he knew. 

“We… what?” Dean stuttered. 

“People can’t go around punching celebrities without punishment. They shouldn’t go around punching anyone, really, but there’s a certain standard we have to uphold considering who you are.” Naomi explained.  “But we also have other things to consider. For example what the fuck we’re going to say to get you out of the Met Gala this weekend without speculation.” 

Castiel sucked in an agitated breath and shook his head cluelessly. He’d rather been looking forward to the Met Gala, if he was being honest. At his side, Dean stared blankly at the floor, looking halfway between upset and angry himself. Cas squeezed his hand, and Dean shot him a quick, grateful smile. 

“Why shouldn’t they go?” Kevin asked then, standing taller than he had been a few minutes ago. “I can think of many reasons why they still should. First and foremost because why the hell should those assholes get what they want and stop them from doing things? If they don’t go, the assholes win. We shouldn’t give in, shouldn’t rise to it. If they go, it’s making a statement, that they can be knocked down but they’ll get right back fucking up. Which, let’s be honest, is the truth.” 

Naomi furrowed her brow then in thought, eyes darting between both Castiel’s and Dean’s as she considered the security chief’s point. Cas agreed, actually. The thought of walking onto that red carpet with his injured husband might be fucking terrifying, but Kevin was right, and he didn’t want to let those men win, didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. They could own it, carry on as if nothing was different, because really, nothing was. They knew they were right, knew their love was right. 

“What do you think, Dean?” Naomi asked, and Dean pulled his one open eye finally up from the floor to lock onto hers. 

“I think Kevin’s right.” Dean said, a little nervously. “I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of changing our plans. And I suppose if you’re going to insist we press charges, how better to get a load of evidence of my injuries than stepping onto the fucking red carpet?” 

Naomi’s expression soured at the comment, lips pursing, but she did breathe out a sigh and nod once. “You on board with this, Castiel?” She checked. 

“As long as we take extra security, yeah, I’m on board.” 

 

*

 

After their four years back together Dean would have thought he’d know everything there was to know about who Castiel had become. But, it turned out, the movie star was still full of surprises. They’d flown in to Newark that morning, and Dean was excited to see their owned New York apartment that he hadn’t realised existed. He’d known, when they got married, that Cas had his fingers in a lot of financial pies, like any celebrity he had different places throughout the country, but somehow he’d never heard of this one in the Big Apple. 

They’d bundled into their car and hopped onto the I-95 headed for Manhattan, speed decreasing the closer they got to the city. Dean had never been to New York. He’d wanted to attend the Met Gala last year, but Cas had been too busy filming that awful space movie he won Best Actor for. At the sight of the iconic skyline he found himself getting excited. 

“It’s overlooking Central Park?” Dean asked his husband quietly, peering out of the windows with an intrigued gaze. Cas smirked, and nodded for the hundredth time. 

“Yes, it’s on the Upper West Side.” He reminded him. 

“Near where John Lennon was shot?” 

“Pretty close, yes.” 

Dean was content then to stare for a while longer at the towering buildings, in awe of their sheer size and number. It wasn’t like he’d never seen a skyscraper before. Central LA had its fair share of tall buildings and there were plenty in Vegas, too. But this was something else. It seemed like every other structure was halfway up to the sky, almost the entirety of Central Manhattan somewhere in the air. 

Once they’d crossed the Hudson through the Lincoln Tunnel, the traffic slowed down even worse. They took 10th avenue up to the Upper West Side, stopping for what felt like an age at every intersection. But eventually they made it, turning down West 61st to reach their destination. Dean peered up in awe at the glass building, a little nervous that they were about to take an elevator almost the entire way to the top. 

They bustled inside with their bags and broad smiles, and Dean clutched Castiel’s hand as the elevator pulled them up the tall structure. They stepped out into a short corridor, unlocking the only door and walking into their apartment. 

The place was modern, open plan, and minimalist. It screamed bachelor pad, and Dean wondered briefly if his husband had spent many nights here during their ten year separation. The external walls were entirely glass, and it gave the place an airy, light feel. The kitchen was to their right, with glossy white cabinets and black granite countertops. The fridge and appliances looked like something out of a sci-fi movie, each probably costing more than the entire contents of Dean’s old one bedroomed apartment in Kansas. 

The living area was spacious, three large white couches in a U-shape around a TV that was somehow mounted to the glass wall. Where the kitchen floor was tiled in stylish, glossy hexagons the rest of the apartment had thick carpets, and the hallways led through to three en-suite bedrooms. Castiel took Dean’s hand, and led him through to the master. 

“Do you fancy unpacking?” Castiel asked a few minutes later, and Dean glanced back at him over his shoulder with a smile. He was basically stuck to the glass wall, staring out across Central Park and looking back towards Lower Manhattan. 

“Sorry. I just can’t get enough of this view.” He explained. 

“I don’t know how you’ve never been here before.” Cas laughed, but he came over to join him at the window, snaking an arm around his lower back and balancing his chin against Dean’s shoulder. 

“You promise we can be tourists tomorrow?” Dean asked again, and Cas nodded. 

“Yeah, although we’re taking Kevin.” 

“Yeah.” Dean grinned. He’d hardly admit it but he was still a little shaken after what had happened in Vegas. When he was sober he could easily hold his own, but there was no way he’d go blindly around a city as big and unknown to him as New York without the security chief. “I’ll race you to the top of the Empire State.” 

Castiel scoffed. “Firstly, if we could race? I’d win. And secondly, you don’t take the stairs, there are elevators.” 

“You’d win?” Dean questioned, raising an eyebrow over his good eye. “As if.” 

Cas laughed again, and kissed his husband’s cheek. “Don’t kid yourself, Winchester. You know I’m right. But come on, we haven’t got long, we have to get ready.”

 

*

 

“You ready for this?” Castiel asked anxiously, breathing out as steadily as he could obviously manage. Dean nodded, feeling weirdly at peace. He knew exactly the sort of uproar he was about to create, but Kevin had been right, they couldn’t let those assholes win. 

The door to their limo was opened for them, and Cas glanced back at his husband before stepping out first. Dean sucked in a deep breath, and followed him, climbing out of the car to stand at his husband’s side, hands entwined. The cameras were already flashing rapidly, but as he lifted his head to stare straight in front, there was a sudden pause in the bright lights while the media’s shock kicked in. It only lasted a second, though, before they all jumped straight into overtime. Dean blinked his good eye a few times while Cas squeezed his hand harder, and when the flashes had returned to a normal speed, they stepped forward slowly, ignoring the whispers of the press as they headed to the museum’s entrance. 

The eyes that Dean saw were all littered with confusion, surprise, caution. He knew their minds would be at ease soon, that Naomi was making the press announcement of their assault charges right now, but he hated that there would be speculation until they found out the truth. He tugged suddenly on Castiel’s hand, pulling him to a swift stop, and his husband looked surprised as he reached his free hand out to the back of Cas’s neck, bringing their lips together in a slow kiss. He wouldn’t have any rumours or anyone doubting them, not ever again. 

The press were wolf-whistling and snapping their cameras even quicker while their lips were locked, and when Dean finally let his husband go he beamed, making Cas grin hard as he looked back at him. With a nod of his head, they started walking again, and within minutes, they were inside. 

“Woah there, cowboy.” A familiar voice sounded behind Dean’s head and they stopped together near a table. 

A bright smile erupted on his face as he turned, grinning, and wrapped the woman responsible in a hug. “Nice to see you, Jen.” He greeted their friend. He’d met Jennifer Lawrence at a party a couple of Christmases ago, and even though she and Castiel previously had had a minor falling out, they’d clicked, and after that night became good friends. Tonight, the actress wore a silver gown that hugged her figure, and even though Dean rarely ever looked at a woman nowadays, he would admit she looked good. 

“What in hell happened to you?” She questioned curiously, and when Cas had hugged her too, he started looking guiltier.

“It was nothing, really.” Dean tried to explain, but Cas had begun speaking already too. 

“He got assaulted by homophobic assholes in Vegas.” Castiel said. 

“Oh shit, really?” Their friend asked, looking sad for them as well as surprised. “Well you’re doing the right thing in standing up to them and carrying on.” 

“Yeah, it was Kevin, our security chief, that suggested we didn’t let them win.” Dean smiled then. 

“Definitely.” She agreed thoughtfully, skirting her eyes between the two. “I haven’t seen you in forever.” She complained. “Not since… you know, before all that stuff with your dad, Castiel. How… how are you both? I heard… well, rumour on the grapevine was that things between you got pretty rough.” 

“Yeah, well we’ve been in the UK since then, only got back last week.” Cas explained, suddenly a bit shifty. He looked at his husband, clearly unsure how to continue. 

“Things got bad, yeah, but we sorted it out.” Dean said, preferring an honest approach that hopefully left no more room for discussion. He didn’t want to go into their failings again. Not now that they were happy. 

“Yeah? I’m glad. I was worried for a while there.” She admitted, but she was smiling. “So, anything new?” 

Dean’s mind went wild then as he thought about their huge news, and the sparkle he saw in Castiel’s eyes proved he was as excited about their future as he felt himself. But that anxiety remained, and Cas shut the hope down before he spoke. 

“You just wait and see.” He said, instead of admitting their secret. At least he was acknowledging that their lives were going to change, now. That seemed like progress. But he should have known that no one in their right minds would let a tease that big drop. 

“Oh my god, what news?” Jen tried again, but Cas just pursed his lips, grinning, so Dean said nothing either, just let his smile light up his good eye. 

There was no time for the actress to persevere, though, as they were being invited to their dining tables ready for the food and performances. A lucky escape, Dean figured. 

 

*

 

Being at home was one thing, back with all their creature comforts and the modern luxuries that the cottage in the English countryside didn’t have, but being with their family was what made their life here so much happier than over there. They’d needed the break, there was no doubt about that, but this was home, and it was time to get back to their real life now that things had settled down again. 

This week, Sam, Jess, and Lily were staying, with Charlie as a frequent visitor to their home. They’d still been working, but it was a quieter than usual week, so they were able to spend a fair amount of time together. It just felt so right having them around all the time, and Dean wished, not for the first time, that they could be persuaded to move closer. Maybe he’d try again to broach the subject later. 

Their being there was also beneficial in terms of parenting practice. Now that his brother and sister-in-law were aware that they were months away from having a baby of their own, Lily was suddenly being left with them a lot more frequently than she usually would have been. Dean initially had been scared half to death when Jess handed him their daughter before she went off for a bath, Sam still out in the jacuzzi, because not only did he have no idea what to do with a two year old baby, Cas didn’t either. But they’d bounced her around on their knees and cuddled her until she’d fallen asleep in Castiel’s arms, and Dean’s heart had warmed up so much at the sight that he’d nearly woken the baby back up when he leant in to kiss his husband’s lips. 

They could do this, he knew. They could be the perfect fathers that neither of them had. 

Castiel had looked pretty pleased with himself, too, when Jess had come back from her bath and the beautiful blonde little girl was still fast asleep with her head in the crook of his arm. Dean watched him staring happily at the baby and prayed that it was doing something to alleviate his remaining anxieties, although he was secure in his belief that they weren’t centred around his desire to have a baby, and more so around their complete loss of control. 

But that night he’d gone to bed even happier than when he last woke, and Dean was sure that one day soon, there would be no pain at all left in his heart. 

 

*

 

The following day Dean had gone to downtown LA for some of his nonprofit work, while Castiel had a rare day off. It was so unusual for him nowadays to be alone with Sam and Jess without his husband there, and it was a strange throwback to the old days before he and Dean had made up. He wasn’t sure he liked the reminder, but their company was as good as it ever was. 

Where the air was slowly but surely starting to warm up a little as April gave way to May, they’d made the decision this afternoon to go out into the (still heated) pool. Lily absolutely loved swimming, and Castiel watched her playing with Sam in the water from the bar where he sat with Jess, cocktails in hand. The little girl, in her bright pink swimsuit with purple armbands, clung to the back of an inflatable dolphin Cas had ordered for her online the day before, while her father spun her in circles, splashed her, threw her up in the air only to catch her at the last minute. Castiel watched, smiling, completely relaxed. He was looking forward to finishing up the remaining bits of his Star Wars stuff to be honest, because he needed a bit of a break before the baby arrived. Days like this where he could afford to relax just proved to him how little he’d rested in the ten years since he’d got his break in Hollywood. 

A slight panic crept across his heart when he realised what he’d just thought, because it was the first time he’d thought so casually about their having a baby without having a minor meltdown over the _what ifs_. It was the first time he’d considered it to be something that was definitely happening, without second guessing himself, and somehow, that was terrifying. 

On noticing his change in mood, Jess cocked her head, shooting him a questioning glance from behind her margarita. He tried to distract himself by staring at his drink. Castiel was more of a martini person, but _not,_ as Dean would say, because it made him feel like James Bond. He just wasn’t one for the fruity drinks. His husband, however, not that he’d ever admit it, was a sex on the beach kind of guy. Drink _and_ action included. Cas dispelled his panic and chuckled to himself at the thought, and now Jess was looking even more curious. 

Whatever she thought he was laughing about, though, she didn’t ask. 

“When are you going to tell the world about the baby, then?” She asked casually. An innocent enough question, but the thought of telling the world still dredged up that feeling of anxiety and made his heart throb a little more angrily. 

“Definitely not until after the next sonogram.” Castiel said quietly, eyes back on Sam and his daughter. But Jess was still looking at him, eyes trained on his suddenly gentler expression. He sighed, gaze darting back to her and then onto the floor tiles. “Can I be honest?” He asked, to which she nodded. Maybe he needed to talk about this to someone that wasn’t Dean, to someone that had been through some of this and just might understand. “I’m scared to tell everyone.” 

“What are you scared of?” Jess said softly, eyeing him supportively. He met her eye quickly and shot her a smile. 

“Something going wrong, I guess. I didn’t even want to tell you two until after the next ultrasound, but Dean was getting agitated about it. It just… I’m so scared about it… but I don’t even really know why.”

“But everything’s gone perfectly well so far, right?” Jess was obviously trying to console him. 

“A little too perfectly.” He complained. “Life… things don’t go well for Dean and I.” 

“Cas, I get that you’ve had really bad luck, I do, but surely if anything you’ve earned your happiness, now? You’ve done your time, paid your dues —”

“—And how many times have I thought that before? Things still find a way to get worse. I guess I’m just scared that my — our — bad luck will follow us through to the baby, too.” 

Jess sighed slowly, taking a long sip of her margarita before sitting further upright on her lounger and turning to face the movie star. Cas looked back at her, completely open and vulnerable for once. 

“Cas, I think you need to understand something about being a parent.” She began softly. “It’s normal to be anxious about how things are going to be, whether something might happen. It’s normal to worry. But you can’t let it dictate your life like you are, you need to live normally. I’m not disagreeing with you, maybe waiting until after the next sonogram will be the right thing because you’ll have solid proof then that everything is alright before you tell the world — I get that it’s different for you because you’re famous and that brings a lot of pressure. But Cas, this anxiety, this worrying? It’s never going to change.” 

“Even when everything is perfect, even in moments like right now where I can see Sam and I can see Lily and they’re completely fine? Anything can happen to any one of us at any moment. We can’t predict things. We’re not _really_ in control of anything in our lives. We just need to make the most of the time we know we _do_ have, the most of every second with our children. Having some anxiety is normal, Cas, and it just proves you’re a good dad already.” She smiled, but Castiel’s heart felt no better for her reassurance. “Just don’t let it own you.” 

 

*

 

God was he exhausted. Who’d have thought that a day of legal paperwork could be so tiring? Actually, scratch that, it was so boring he should have seen it coming a mile away. 

As Dean pulled open their front door and took his jacket into the cloakroom he could hear the telling noises of Lily playing, and he smiled, wondering what his husband got up to with his brother, sister-in-law and niece during the day. He’d felt very envious leaving them all to it this morning at breakfast, and he’d worn a solid pout for most of the morning. But needs must, he had to work after all. 

Dean stretched his back as he strolled, carefree into the living room. His eyes settled on the tiny, blonde little girl playing on a rocking horse that Sam was pushing for her, and he smiled before looking around the rest of the room, a frown forming on his brow when he spotted only Jess, his husband nowhere in sight. 

He took a few more paces forwards, curious gaze questioning the nurse who looked back at him with undeniable concern in her expression. Before he could reach the couch, she’d stood, and gestured her head for him to follow. So he let her lead him back out into the hall, heart falling before she could even open her mouth. 

“He’s upstairs.” She said, keeping her voice low. Dean couldn’t help but feel his alarm mounting, though. Why the hell had Cas isolated himself? 

“What’s wrong?” There was no need to beat around the bush, after all. 

Jess paused, chewing a little uncertainly on her bottom lip while she tried to find the words. “Honestly? I don’t really know. He was talking about how anxious he’s been feeling and I tried to reassure him but… Dean, are you sure he’s well enough? I mean, if I’m being honest with you I thought it was a little soon…”

Dean breathed out a sigh infused with a multitude of mixed up emotions. He’d known. He’d known it was too soon, but he’d wanted it to be alright so much that he’d carried on with it anyway, and now here they were, almost halfway through a pregnancy they probably weren’t ready for. What the fuck was he going to do? His expression probably said it all, because Jess’s eyes softened, and her hand came out to squeeze his arm in support. 

“I have to talk to him.” He said, and she let his arm drop as he excused himself to hurry upstairs to his husband. He took the stairs two at a time, but paused at the doorway to their bedroom, breathing out slowly, trying to calm his pounding heart. At least one of them had to stay strong after all. 

It took almost all of his remaining courage, but he pushed the door open. 

Instantly, his heart fell. Castiel sitting was on their bed, knees pulled up to his chest, head buried between them. He rocked gently, obviously upset, and fuck, they were so screwed. Dean wasted no time in pushing the door closed and hurrying over to him, clambering quickly onto the bed, kneeling in front of his husband. His arms went out to his shoulders, and at the touch Cas looked up, his eyes wide and scared, sending an intense shiver of panic through Dean’s heart. 

“What’s going on?” Dean whispered a few moments later, when Cas had made no attempt to explain himself. 

“I’m good.” Cas insisted, dragging in a ragged breath. “I’m good. I’m good… I’m good.” 

“That’s one ‘I’m good’ too many.” Dean sighed, knowing damn well his husband was pretty far from _good_. “What’s wrong?” 

Castiel paused then, eyes still locked in fear on Dean’s. But his expression melted like he couldn’t keep fighting. His worries and doubts flooding up and out. “I can’t…. I— I can’t. I’m freaking out.” 

“Why?” Dean asked, hand leaving Castiel’s arm and gently cupping his cheek instead. 

“Because what if, Dean? What if something happens? What if something goes wrong? What if I’m not ready? What if this is a mistake?” Cas garbled quickly. 

Dean’s heart sank, if possible, even lower. “You think our baby is a mistake?” 

“No.” Cas said then, and Dean was just so damn confused. What the hell was with Cas? “I… I don’t know.” 

At the admission, Cas broke. The emotions in his eyes turned into tears, and his body shook as a sob racked out of him, leaving him paralysed by panic. Dean was terrified, entirely petrified that his whole life was going to turn upside down. He couldn’t let it happen again. Things had been so good. He pushed his hand around to Castiel’s back and pulled his face into his chest while his husband sobbed against him, all of his anxieties pouring out unspoken. 

What the fuck was he supposed to do now? It wasn’t like he could stop this from happening, and he didn’t want to stop it from happening even if he could. Why was Cas so afraid? What was he afraid of? And how in hell was he supposed to help him? 

“We can’t take it back.” Dean said quietly, lips against his husband’s forehead. “And I don’t want to take it back. So I need to help you, Cas. It’s too late, you know that, right?” 

“It’s not like I don’t want our baby.” Cas whispered, crying. “But I’m not good enough. I’m not… I can’t be what he or she needs.” 

“What’s scaring you?” Dean asked, trying a different tactic. At least if Castiel’s worries were focused on his own insecurities, he could take him back to Nygard. The doctor would know what to do. 

“The thought of something going wrong. Of something happening and our baby getting hurt. Of us getting hurt because of it. The thought of me not being good enough.” Cas admitted. 

“Cas, that just says to me that you’re worried for the baby, not because we’re having a baby. We’ve still got months. We’ve got months to get you better. We’ve got time, I promise. We’ll be ok.” Dean wasn’t sure if he was really trying to console Castiel or instead, his own throbbing heart. “I’ll help you, babe. I’m here. Try not to worry. We’ll sneak you out tomorrow and go and see Nygard, ok? He’ll know how to help.” 

Castiel was still crying, still clutching Dean like he was saying goodbye, but he nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know it's Tuesday not Monday! I've got the flu and it's taken me ages to edit this. Hoping still to get my next update up on Thursday but no promises, I feel like I've been hit by a train rn!


	47. If You're Not Inside Me, I'll Put My Future in You

Although he was glad that Nygard had managed to squeeze them in on such short notice, their usual privacy had gone out of the window. Dean sat in Nygard’s waiting room with his husband’s face buried firmly against his neck, hiding what he could of his own profile in Castiel’s hair. Although Castiel had eventually cried himself dry last night, he had spent almost every second since in Dean’s arms. They had returned downstairs to be with their family, but Cas had been clingier than normal and Dean had felt his heavy, quick breaths from where he clutched him tightly while they’d watched a movie. 

It had been easy enough to excuse themselves this morning, knowing they’d only be out for an hour or two, and there was plenty in the house to keep Sam, Jess and Lily occupied while they were out. Jess had shot Dean a look that suggested she’d figured out more than they were letting on when Dean had told their white lie and said they had a press commitment, but she was gracious enough not to call him out on it. He was only lying to save face for his husband, anyway. 

A short ten minutes passed before Nygard appeared at the door to his office, and the doctor caught Dean’s eyes as they poked out from above Castiel’s head. The greying psychiatrist looked at them both fondly, but the concern was evident in his gaze. 

After they’d been called forwards and settled themselves down together on the couch opposite the doctor, Castiel’s breaths became shallower and more forced. Dean rubbed his husband’s lower back with firm fingers in support. 

“Castiel, are you happy for Dean to be present during the session?” Nygard checked, and he smiled when the movie star nodded and edged closer to the mechanic. “How can I help you?” 

“I…” Cas began, edgy, nervous, and obviously panicked. He kept his eyes focused on the floor. “We’re having a baby.”

“Congratulations!” Nygard said in a plain but somehow approving tone. Dean smiled a gracious _thank you_ , but kept his attention focused almost entirely on Castiel. 

“I’m scared.” Cas admitted then, when Nygard waited for him to continue. Dean slipped that arm around Castiel’s waist, squeezing him gently in reassurance. “I’m worried I’m not ready. That I’m making a huge mistake.” 

It hurt, really fucking badly, to hear Cas talking like this. Castiel was purposefully avoiding Dean’s eyes, but at least he’d let him be here. Even though it sucked, even though it hurt like hell, at least Dean _knew_ what he was thinking, at least his husband wasn’t hiding away like he would have before. At least he was talking. 

“What makes you think it’s a mistake?” Nygard asked in that steady, calm voice of his. 

“I don’t know if it is. I’m just so worried. I’m convinced something will go wrong.” Cas said quietly, like he was ashamed. Dean squeezed him again, his free hand coming out to rest on the actor’s thigh, rubbing a reassuring path over the muscle.

“And it’s the thought that something will go wrong that is worrying you?” Nygard enquired. 

“Yes.” Cas said. “I’m scared that our baby will be hurt. That because of it, Dean and I will be hurt. I’m scared that I’ve rushed this, that I won’t be a good father because I can’t be, because I don’t feel like I can be.”

“Given the magnitude of the change you are expecting, Castiel, your worries aren’t unusual.” Nygard said in reassurance, but he turned then to Dean, and they locked eyes cautiously. “Dean, do you have anything to add? How has Castiel been acting?” 

“Cas, you’ll definitely be a good father.” Dean insisted, hurt that his husband was so sure he wouldn’t be. He turned back to Nygard then, though, after he’d contemplated the question. “Cas has been completely overwhelmed by anxiety. He’s worrying all the time, he’s terrified. He’d got better, but I’m scared he’s got worse again.” 

“Do you think Castiel has relapsed?” 

“No.” Dean shook his head, thinking. “It’s not the same as before…” 

“This isn’t depression.” Castiel interjected then, finally looking up, glancing at both Dean and Nygard who watched him with careful, cautious eyes. “That was, before. This… this is different. I think Dean’s right, it’s anxiety that’s causing the problem. I just… I can’t control it, and I’m so scared.” 

“Are you worrying every day, Castiel?” Nygard asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Has it affected your work?” 

“I don’t think so —” Castiel began.

“—I’d argue it has.” Dean interrupted. “And I think Naomi would agree. You’re needing to do a lot more takes at the moment, particularly with difficult scenes.” 

“I suppose so.” Cas agreed reluctantly. 

“And how about your personal life?” Nygard enquired. “Has it affected that? Is your marriage suffering issues again?” 

“No, I…” Cas started, nervous. “Dean’s been very supportive. He’s keeping me talking, and I’m really trying, but I don’t feel like I want to talk. All I want to do is shut down. I’m finding it really hard not to.” 

At the admission, Dean squeezed Cas even tighter, pressing his lips against the actor’s temple and praying to anything that would listen to help heal him. Cas just needed to get better. He needed peace. 

“I won’t let you give up, Cas.” Dean whispered, and he watched Nygard smile even if his husband couldn’t. 

“He looks after you.” The doctor commented. 

“I do my best.” Dean agreed, smiling back. 

“So how long has this been going on, Castiel? For how long have you felt this way?” 

“Maybe two months, almost three?” Cas whispered. 

Nygard sighed, nodding. “We wouldn’t normally offer a diagnosis of general anxiety disorder until it’s been going on for at least six months, but I have to say, you are ticking every box. And with a baby on the way, I don’t think we should hesitate to help you get back on the right track.” 

Dean smiled, nodding his head too in sync with Nygard while Cas looked at him for agreement. 

“Castiel, I know you weren’t keen on the idea before, but I think if you want to get better quickly, we need to reconsider a short term course of medication to begin with. I understand your concerns and why you wouldn’t want to take medication, but what is happening to you right now is not normal, it is an illness that we can treat, and need to treat to make you better.” 

Cas chewed his lip then, looking if possible more upset than a moment ago. He caught Dean’s eye, and his fear was obvious. 

“Babe, what’s scaring you about that? If it will help you…” Dean asked nervously. 

“I’m scared if I take medication it’ll change me, and that it will interfere with our lives.” Cas admitted. “What if you don’t like who I become and stop loving me?” 

“I could never stop loving you.” Dean insisted, stroking Castiel’s cheek with a long finger. “I promise I’ll stand with you through this and all of the challenges that are yet to come. But I need you to get better, our baby needs you to get better.” 

“Castiel, this is only a short term course, just to see if it will help you. It’s not something you have to accept but it is my recommended action. It can help to talk, but you need to understand that there is something wrong with the way your mind is processing thoughts, that many of your fears are being amplified into something irrational. I think medication could benefit you, and I believe you have enough support from your husband that you won’t be changed.” 

“How soon could I get better if I take the meds?”

“Soon, a couple of days even.” 

“What do you think, Dean?” Cas whispered. 

“I think you were almost there. I think we probably have rushed into this, and maybe we should have been more careful, but we weren’t. I think that no matter what you choose to do, when the baby comes you will be the best dad anyone could hope for, because I know you love him or her already. But this worrying isn’t good for you, and I just want you to feel well and to be happy, like I know you can. Like you were feeling. I don’t want you to be suffering, Cas, and I trust Nygard to help you. He wouldn’t suggest it if it wasn’t safe.” 

Cas breathed slowly in a long pause, before looking up at the doctor again. “Ok.” He agreed. 

 

*

 

When they’d been given the pills and were back in the car, Dean had almost thought Cas might refuse to take one. His husband had stared at the small round tablet for a full minute before eventually nodding and popping it into his mouth. Dean had offered him out his Evian, and smiled as Cas swallowed. When Cas looked back at him, those big blue eyes full of uncertainty and fear, Dean kissed him firmly to alleviate his stresses. 

They were back home in what felt like no time, and Cas was smiling when they walked, hand in hand, back through the door and into the living room where they found Sam and Jess, Lily passed out sleeping on the couch for a morning nap. 

“All go alright?” Jess enquired as they took a seat opposite, and Dean nodded with a knowing smile. 

For a while, they were inclined to sit in quiet, watching whatever was on TV in a comfortable, peaceful silence. No one wanted to wake Lily after all. It was only when the credits started to roll on a re-run of _F.R.I.E.N.D.S._ that Dean realised Cas was asleep in his arms. He peered at his husband curiously, the actor snoozing soundly at his side, and it only really dawned on him at that point how unwell Castiel might have become again. Had his busy mind been stopping him from sleeping? 

Whatever the case, his husband was now at rest. Castiel’s soft snores made his lips curl up in hope, because at least now that he’d accepted treatment things would surely improve. As he stroked his spare hand through Castiel’s raven-black hair, he lifted his gaze, locking onto his brother’s smiling eyes. 

But it was Jess that spoke, and Dean glanced at her as she opened her mouth. “Is he alright?” 

Dean paused, not really sure how to answer her question. It was hardly like Cas was as bad as he was. In comparison to how they’d been at their worst, right now, they were both on cloud fucking nine. 

“Better now.” Dean said softly. “He… it’s an anxiety thing. He’s not as bad as he was, nowhere near as bad as when you were in London, Sam. Just… he’s just freaking out a bit. We went to see our therapist this morning and they’ve given him some meds to help.” 

“It’s a big thing, having a baby. And I can imagine how difficult it must be if you’re not feeling 100%.” Sam commented. 

“Yeah, exactly. His mind is just running wild with possibilities. When he asked back in January… I knew it was too soon, I knew I should have insisted we wait. But… I don’t know, maybe I was selfish. It was what I wanted and I was worried if I said not yet it would set him back, like I wasn’t trusting him. But we’ve still got months. He’ll get there. I’ll help him to get there.” 

 

*

 

The thought that they were actually going to be able to see _their_ baby today was completely insane. Maybe it was because he or she wasn’t actually growing inside one of them, but it didn’t feel quite real, yet. Maybe it was the numb feeling the medications left him with. Could just as easily be that. So yeah, sure, he was excited, but he was completely, entirely terrified too. 

Where Charlie was by now fairly well acquainted with the OB-GYN and the ultrasound procedure, Castiel had no idea what to expect. His heart was racing, pounding away inside his ribcage because if they were going to find something wrong it was going to be now, and his anxieties were eating away at him, so hard that even the meds weren’t alleviating today’s panic. He’d been trying not to get excited, not to get his hopes up, _just in case_ , but he wanted this baby with all his heart. He’d told Dean as much, and his husband had beamed at him proudly. But another, smaller part of him was nervous about the doctor saying everything was ok. If their baby was perfect, then he’d have to finally agree to let the world in on their secret. 

Finally, they strolled into the clinic’s reception, Castiel’s hand clutching his husband’s. Sat in a corner waiting for them was their best friend, her stomach starting to protrude a little with a baby bump she was still just about hiding. It was still top secret, until tomorrow when he’d have to come clean. He had an interview booked with Ellen anyway, and Dean and Naomi had coerced him into agreeing to announcing the pregnancy at the end. She was a good friend, and he knew she was a little gutted that all of their big announcements over the past couple of years had been via other chat show hosts, and he’d proposed during his BAFTA acceptance speech so she hadn’t been involved with that, either. This, he could give her. But for now, only Sam, Jess, Naomi and Kevin were aware of the pregnancy, and he much preferred living in this little bubble. They wouldn’t be able to keep it under wraps any longer though, before long Charlie would _really_ start showing and people would start asking questions. 

The secretary led them through to the doctor’s room, and the OB-GYN, an older man with greying hair by the name of Dr Parkins, greeted them all with smiles and handshakes, ushering Charlie up onto the couch where she wriggled herself comfortable before lifting up her sweater. Her once flat stomach had rounded up to her naval, and Castiel could hardly believe it was _his_ blood growing inside of her. He had to take a few deep breaths just to stay in control, because he was really starting to freak out. 

Why he was so worried he didn’t really know. He was just completely terrified that something would be wrong, that maybe there was something wrong with him that he didn’t know about. Maybe that’s what it boiled down to, maybe he was worried that Chuck could somehow ruin _this_ for them, too. 

As if reading his mind, but definitely reading his nervous and uncertain expression, Dean tightened his hand around Castiel’s fingers and shot him a pointed smile when he looked up. He knew he’d scared Dean half to death the other week when he’d had his meltdown. He’d scared himself too, but the medication had helped as Nygard had said it would, and apart from today, he had been feeling better overall. Cas leaned in for a brief kiss, focusing on the sensation of Dean’s lips against his own and dispelling some of his fear as the doctor spread gel on his plastic transducer and pushed it against Charlie’s skin. 

Rather than look at the screen immediately, Cas watched his husband’s expression at the very first images of their child. Dean’s eyes widened, and a bright smile spread across his cheeks instantly. It was enough to calm him down, and he too looked up to the screen. 

If he was honest, he couldn’t really tell what he was looking at, but the doctor was smiling and casually angling his probe and changing the image as he did, nodding in approval between clicks of a button. It was only when he pulled the transducer back to the centre of Charlie’s abdomen that Cas could actually make out the shape of his son or daughter. A round skull gave way to a tiny spine, and four limbs were gently moving. What got him, though, what sent a wave of emotion crashing through him and brought tears to his eyes was the movement in the centre of the baby’s chest, a fluttering that the doctor explained was its heart, beating away. 

He was completely enraptured, his attention so entirely taken up in focusing on every tiny, perfect detail of his child that he hadn’t realised thirty whole minutes had passed until the doctor was straightening his shoulders. 

“Now, we must inform you that ultrasound is not a diagnostic test, but from what I can tell, the baby is completely perfect.” Dr Parkins said, smiling. 

At his side, Dean grinned, a happy laugh escaping his lips, eyes locked on Castiel. “Of course it is, look at its father.” 

Cas scoffed, rolling his eyes in a pretend show of annoyance. “You’re sure?” He asked, because he was scared to allow himself to believe everything was alright. “Everything is ok?” 

“Everything seems to be fine.” The OB-GYN smiled. 

Cas let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, and it felt like his anxieties melted away all at once. He felt lighter than he had in weeks. He turned his head, meeting Dean’s eye, and his husband beamed at him, leaning into him and taking a soft kiss from his lips. 

“So, can we find out the sex please?” Charlie said suddenly, eyes on the doctor. The question took Castiel aback, because they’d not talked about whether they wanted to find out the baby’s sex or leave it until the birth, probably because he’d been so anxious every time the sonogram had been brought up. He shot their friend a look, and Charlie glanced back at him with a cheeky grin and shrugged. 

“Surely it’s my right as surrogate to know whether this is a little dude or a little lady?” She suggested, pointing her fingers down at her stomach. Cas tore his eyes away from her then to look at his husband, and Dean was looking at him with puppy dog eyes, an almost pleading expression. One look told him his husband was just as desperate to find out. He shrugged. 

“Go on then.” He said, grinning. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to know too. 

Parkins smiled, pushing the probe back onto Charlie’s abdomen and angling it, trying to get a good view. After a few minutes where they waited with bated breath, he smiled, pulling the transducer off and wiping up the gel with tissue. “Your little one is a bit stubborn, likes having its legs crossed.” He laughed, to which Charlie replied with a _I wonder where it gets that from_ , and earned two matching smirks and eye rolls. “But I’d say it’s a boy.”

“A boy?” Dean repeated, beaming. Castiel grinned at him, completely ecstatic as he threw his arms around him, laughing, while Charlie watched them fondly. Suddenly, Castiel’s mind was full of Dean, of his husband and their _son_ , of them playing ball, of them working on cars together, of them watching Star Wars together, of Dean being the father neither of them had. 

“Of course it’s a boy.” Cas laughed, clutching Dean close. He only had brothers, after all. “Our _son_.” 

Dean chuckled in disbelief against Castiel’s shoulder, shaking with his excitement and emotion. Cas knew he was overwhelmed, could feel it in the way he was shuddering in every breath. And with a thought, he knew he was about to put the icing on the cake. It was a decision he’d come to terms with weeks ago. He pulled back suddenly, far enough away to meet Dean’s eyes, but still holding onto his shoulders. Dean was on the brink of happy tears already. 

“Bobby.” Castiel said with conviction, and he watched as his husband’s eyes went wide, as Dean’s smile cracked under the weight of his emotion, and as his tears started to flood down his cheeks. 

 

 

*

 

It did kind of feel like a dam had broken, really. When Parkins had said that their child was a boy, that he was perfectly healthy, Cas had felt his heart skip and this intense feeling wash through him, a relief that was also a fierce protectiveness, a love that was all encompassing and exciting. And that relief washed so much of his anxiety away.

He knew Dean was feeling the same. It was obvious from the way that his husband was on cloud nine, constantly grinning, buzzing with anticipation and excitement. Dean had been completely ecstatic when they’d arrived home following the sonogram, and after they’d kissed with passion he’d pulled out his phone and hurriedly called his brother and sister-in-law, who were overjoyed to hear their news. 

So yeah, even though he’d been dreading it, he was kind of excited now to share it with the world. They’d agreed between themselves to keep the sex a secret — some things were sacred, and Naomi had suggested that a little mystery would keep everyone interested, cue an eye roll from Castiel — but Charlie had been happy for them to divulge any other details they saw fit. 

And so, here he was, coming up to the end of his interview with Ellen. He’d chatted a bit about Star Wars and plugged his latest release just as he was supposed to, played along with some of the games and actually set a high score on Heads Up, so there was that, but now he was back on the couch, quite cosy really, in his skinny jeans and loose, olive green sweater, anxiously awaiting the moment where she went to dismiss him so that he could turn the tables. She had no idea they had this planned, but Naomi had warned the producers to allow him an extra five minutes. 

“Castiel Novak, everyone!” Ellen beamed, her arm held out to present him for what she assumed would be a final round of applause, but Cas made no move to leave the couch, and instead he sat there, beaming until finally her expression changed into one of curiosity.

“Actually, Ellen, if it’s ok with you I’d like to quickly invite my husband onto the stage?” Castiel asked politely, grinning widely. 

Ellen’s eyes narrowed out of intrigue, and before she could answer the crowd were roaring their approval, and he’d looked back over his shoulder, breath catching at the sight of Dean in his tight white t-shirt and black jeans, strolling towards him with the most gloriously happy expression. Every time he looked his way he still got that fluttering sensation in his stomach. Dean was the most perfect human being he’d ever seen. 

“Hey.” Dean said, grinning, as he took a seat next to Cas. Cas draped an arm around the back of the couch behind him as Ellen regarded them with confusion and excitement. She’d figured out something was going down, and the look she shot Castiel then was almost grateful. 

“Well hello, Dean.” Ellen replied, a happy lilt to her voice. 

Dean turned his head to look Castiel’s way, eyes lighting up as they locked, and he shot his husband a pointed look. 

“Do you want to tell them?” Castiel said, kind of hoping Dean would agree. “Or should I?” 

“Go on.” Dean smiled. “You tell them.” 

Castiel sucked in a breath with a sudden nervous energy, searching Dean’s eyes before turning back to Ellen with a smile on his lips. “We have some news we’d like to share with you all.” He said simply. 

A smile broke out on Ellen’s face, partly due to the scoop, he was sure, but mostly because they were friends and he knew she’d be happy for them. She nodded as her approval for him to continue, and he looked out towards the audience instead, beaming. 

“We’re going to be parents.” Castiel grinned, and whoops, clapping, and cheers started to deafen the studio.

“Oh my gosh, congratulations!” Ellen exclaimed, practically jumping out of her seat to wrap her arms around the two men at the same time in a loose hug. 

When she’d taken back to her seat, Ellen watched them patiently, awaiting their explanation. Castiel met Dean’s eye — he couldn’t remember ever seeing his husband so damned excited — and he grinned as Dean opened his mouth to speak. 

“Our friend Charlie Bradbury.” Dean said, smiling. “She offered to be our surrogate.” 

“Our baby is due in October.” Castiel added. Ellen looked just as happy as he did, and the audience were still clapping and whooping and it was obvious that people were genuinely pleased for them. It felt so amazing to be in such a good place. He had everything he could ever need, everything he could ever want. He had Dean, his beyond perfect husband. They had a son on the way, an amazing extended family, not to mention he had all the money they could ever need. Things were finally perfect. And he finally allowed himself to hope that his bad days were numbered. 

 

Finger nails the size of a half grain of rice,

And eyelids closed to be soon opened wide,

A small bump, in four months you'll open your eyes,

And I'll hold you tightly, I'll tell you nothing but truth,

**If you're not inside me, I'll put my future in you.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's late but honestly, I'm giving myself a gold star for effort at this point. Seriously how long is the flu meant to last? Feel like I'm dying here!


	48. This Is the Start of Something Beautiful

**This is the start of something beautiful** ,

This is the start of something new,

You are the one who’d make me lose it all. 

 

Maybe it was all in his mind. Maybe he was still unwell. Maybe it was the meds. Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to take them in the first place. 

Maybe it was one or all of those things. But maybe Dean _was_ acting strangely. 

They’d had a normal enough evening, but something had just felt… off. They’d both spent the day working, both returned home at a normal time, Dean getting back before him at around 4.30pm. They’d watched a little TV, eaten, gone back to the TV, and then slipped down to the in-house cinema and watched a movie. Nothing at all untoward, so why did it feel like something wasn’t quite right? 

While Dean brushed his teeth, Cas lay in bed with his heart pounding. He was scared, and he hated beyond measure that he couldn’t trust his own mind. Obviously, something was off. But that something could be his mind’s ability to process his emotions as easily as it could be his husband’s mood. And to think he’d thought he was getting better. He’d certainly felt it after that last sonogram and the announcement of Charlie’s pregnancy. 

The options were as simple as they were impossible. He could talk or he could deny. He’d tried both over the last months. He’d denied his anxiety to the point that it had burst its way out of him, and he’d talked without anything improving. But he knew Dean would want him to talk. And if the meds weren’t working or his brain was becoming yet more broken, he knew his husband needed to know about it. 

So he resigned himself to try.

“I feel like something’s wrong.” Castiel admitted, once Dean had climbed back into bed and his minty fresh breath had ghosted over Cas’s lips. The actor watched as his husband’s brow furrowed, but the expression on his face was undeniable. Guilt. The sight of it quickened his pulse. 

“Nothing’s wrong, babe.” Dean said, but it was a lie and Cas knew it. Although it scared him that Dean was lying, he couldn’t help but feel relieved that his judgment was correct. 

“Something is.” Cas countered, not willing to let it drop. If he had to keep talking then so did Dean. “What’s the matter? What aren’t you telling me? That face you’re making, that’s your, trying to hide something so you don’t piss me off, face.” 

Dean huffed an exasperated sigh, and averted his gaze while his mind churned. Cas could see conflict in his eyes, and the mechanic’s hand came out to rest on his hip as if searching for some unspoken comfort. Cas softened at that, safe in the assurance that whatever was going on, it wasn’t about him, wasn’t about _them_. 

“I didn’t want to tell you because I don’t want you to worry, you’ve got enough going on already and I haven’t decided what I’m going to do about it.” Dean admitted, his careful eyes slowly climbing back up to capture Castiel’s. “I had an email, an invite… to Adam’s 30th birthday party.”

As Dean revealed his secret, Cas sucked in a breath, wondering if the universe would ever give them a break. The memory of the discovery of his husband’s younger, estranged brother was a painful one, a prelude to the shitty 2017 they’d had. He couldn’t bare to revisit the past while his mental health was so unstable, not when he was trying to get better for their son. 

As if he’d predicted Castiel’s reaction, Dean stroked his fingers down the movie star’s cheeks, a sad smile on his lips that tried in vain to reassure him. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to get involved with him again.” Cas rushed then, having suddenly made up his mind and needed to get the words out as quickly as he could. But he was desperate, now, praying that his husband wouldn’t make the mistake of going down that road. He wasn’t sure he could cope with it if Dean did. “He’s John’s son, and think of all the pain he’s caused you.” 

“I know, babe.” Dean soothed. And Cas knew he was playing devil’s advocate from the way that his  eyes darted around in thought. “But I don’t think he meant to hurt us.” 

“Just because he said that after, doesn’t make it the truth.” 

“No, I know.” Dean sighed. “It just… he kind of feels like a loose end.” 

“He’s not a loose end if you never get involved.” Cas protested, and he swallowed before asking his question. “Do you want to get involved?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“I know he’s your brother.” Cas said then, feeling a little desperate. “But I don’t trust him, and I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Dean’s eyes locked back onto Castiel’s as he spoke, and through their gaze Cas knew Dean understood what he was trying to say although he hadn’t said it at all. Dean could see that Cas couldn’t handle this right now, that he needed safety and stability and that Adam afforded neither of those things. Perhaps one day, when Cas felt better, but right now, getting involved would be damaging. 

Dean smiled softly, and pulled Castiel in for a hug. “Then I won’t.” He whispered, kissing Castiel’s cheek. “So that we won’t get hurt.” 

 

*

 

It wasn’t like it had been a long day. He’d had an early, 7.30am start, but Dean was just arriving home and it was only 4pm. Perhaps it’d been the early morning wake up call, but he felt really tired. Tired to the point that he was heading upstairs to lie down until Cas got home, even though the actor was due back any minute. 

He made it to the first turn of their grand entrance staircase before his curiosity was peaked. It wasn’t unusual to hear noises in this house, whether they were made by the cleaning staff, kitchen staff, security. Neither he or Cas were often left completely alone. So yeah, noises were something he’d learned to live with. Most noises, anyway. What he could hear now wasn’t most noises.

Dean paused in his walk, angling his ear towards the stairs, brows furrowed in suspicion. The sound was somewhere between a knock and a creak, rhythmic and repetitive. He had no idea what he was expecting to find, but he glanced around, searching for anything to wield as a weapon, eyes settling on a signed baseball bat in a glass case set against the wall. 

He hurried over, fumbling with the lock and pulling the bat from its display, clasping the smooth wooden handle with both hands. He took a few deep breaths before sneaking quietly up the remaining stairs, holding his weapon ready against his shoulder. If there was a problem, here, the home invaders would definitely know about it. 

Once he’d reached the top step, his feet sunk into the heavy pile carpet, the noise of his footsteps sucked immediately through it, dampened almost entirely. He was grateful for it as he continued along the corridor, past his own bedroom. If there were thieves, they certainly didn’t know what they were doing. These further bedrooms were rarely used, and there was nothing of value in any of them. Why in hell, then, were they down here?

The knocking grew louder and louder as he crept down the hall, loudest outside one of the spare rooms. The door was shut, so Dean took a deep breath to steady his growing nerves as he let his hand rest on the handle. His mind pictured his exact movements, one blow to the balls would knock a man down pretty well. 

He gulped, and turned the handle. 

The bat fell to the ground with a clatter as his eyes landed on the scene before him. The noise suddenly made sense, and he felt more than a little stupid as he took in the sight of the two naked figures midway through something he definitely hadn’t wanted to interrupt. At the sound of the bat hitting the floor, two familiar, surprised faces turned towards his. His eyes went wide, his heart stuttered in shock, and he turned and fled. 

Dean tore back along the hall and stumbled awkwardly down the stairs, trying desperately to get the sight of what he’d just witnessed from permanently scarring his mind. As he reached the bottom stair, the front door swung open, and as Castiel strode through the doorway, Dean altered course and headed quickly into his arms. 

“What…?” Cas let the question hang in confusion as he let go, gripping Dean’s arm and taking a step back to take in how he was quite obviously in shock. 

The mechanic had no idea how to respond. He didn’t know what to say or how to begin to describe what he’d just walked in on. He didn’t even want to close his eyes in case he saw it again. He stared at his husband, mouth parted and eyes wide open, while Cas tried to work out an explanation. 

He wouldn’t have to come up with his own, though. They both heard the door slam shut from upstairs, and although Castiel’s gaze drew automatically to the landing, Dean couldn’t look back because he knew he wouldn’t be able to meet the eyes he’d see. 

“Dean, you shouldn’t have had to see tha—” Naomi’s voice hurried down towards them as she reached the landing, stopping abruptly as her gaze locked onto Castiel’s curious one. 

A second pair of footsteps followed behind her, and Dean didn’t have to look back to know they belonged to Crowley. The image of Naomi… on him… flashed to the forefront of his mind again and he shivered. 

“What the… what?” Cas asked then, eyes shifting quickly between all three of the people in his company. Dean wouldn’t meet them, though, looking instead at the floor, with pink cheeks and a hammering heart. He knew once he got over the shock he’d be laughing, but right now he was at a midpoint between disgusted and horrified. 

For once, it seemed even Naomi didn’t know what to say. But Dean finally glanced, only quickly, over his shoulder and caught sight of her dishevelled state. She was usually so prim and proper that if Cas hadn’t worked it out by now he was a total idiot. He risked looking up at his husband, but the actor’s eyes were still locked on Naomi’s in horror or disbelief or a combination of the two. 

After a few more moments passed in an ever-awkward silence, Naomi sighed, and following a quick glance back at Crowley, they started making their way downstairs. 

“You two…?” Cas deduced once they’d reached the bottom, and Naomi took another deep breath before answering. 

“Yes.” She said simply, walking around to Dean’s side so that his gaze fell upon her once again. She looked completely mortified, and yeah, ok, that was starting to feel quite funny. 

“And what, is this just a one off, or…?” Cas went on with his interrogation. 

Naomi sighed again, almost groaning as her eyes shot back towards Crowley who stayed cautiously quiet. “No.”

“Then when? What?” 

“We are… we have been… uh, together, for a while.” She replied. 

“Since when?” 

“London.” Crowley said gruffly.

“The most recent time? When we went for Charlie’s interview?” Cas asked. 

“No… the time before that.” Naomi sighed.

The realisation that Naomi and Crowley had been starting something new while he and Cas had been going through the lowest point of their marriage felt a little sour, but their problems were their own. Just because they’d been having a rough patch didn’t mean everyone else should have been, too. Dean glanced up to Castiel, who seemed to be processing similar feelings if the confused look in his eyes was anything to go by. 

The pause grew slowly more awkward again, and when Dean looked back at Naomi she looked scared, like they might actually fire her over this. It was hardly professional, and he’d definitely have nightmares about it, but he _was_ glad she’d found someone who made her happy. She’d looked _very_ happy _._  

“Look, I’m sorry.” She began hurriedly. “This was so unprofessional, and incredibly inappropriate. I shouldn’t have let this interfere with work bu—”

“—It’s fine, Nay.” Dean interjected then. He didn’t know how kindly Cas would take to it but he wouldn’t have her punished for this. If the outside world knew about even half of the places they’d fucked they’d be arrested for exhibitionism, he was sure. He didn’t exactly approve of them screwing in this house but he could hardly lecture people on keeping it inside their own bedroom when he’d worn a huge fucking plug to the Oscars on a whim. Besides, he liked Crowley, and he liked Naomi. Maybe they’d make a good go of it.

A little while later, when he and Cas had retired into the living room, alone, he glanced at his husband, who looked more traumatised than he felt himself. 

“Dean, what… what did you actually see?” Cas asked after a while, and it was obvious he wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to know the answer. 

“Everything.” Dean said then, and as the shock faded the humour started to catch up with him, and he began to laugh. “Full frontal.” 

Castiel grimaced, but at the sound of Dean’s laugh the corners of his mouth were lifting in a smile too. “Seriously?” He questioned.

“Seriously.” Dean chuckled. “If you’re interested, she was on top.” 

“What? Oh god, that is too much information!” Cas complained. “I didn’t want to know that! How in hell am I supposed to look her in the eye now?” 

“I’ve got the real image in my head, babe, I’m asking myself the same question.”

 

*

 

In a cushy grey armchair next to a mahogany wood desk, Castiel felt relatively at home, blathering on about his impending break from Hollywood to be a father. The weeks were flying by, now, and they’d be a family before they knew it. Jimmy Kimmel was hosting, nodding and asking appropriate questions, laughing and joking and making Cas comfortable, quashing the anxiety that still occasionally clawed inside his stomach despite the meds.

“Are you having a baby shower?”

That was Dean’s cue to be ready, he knew. The audience, easily tricked into thinking these things were always spontaneous, loved any excuse to pull his charismatic husband onto the stage. It was, in fact, in the script (for once). Dean was somewhere backstage, reluctantly having a dusting of makeup applied to his face before his appearance. He’d be ushered out here with him in a matter of minutes. 

“No, we’re not having a baby shower.” Cas smiled, pretending to look curious. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about baby showers or anything baby related until the last couple of weeks. They were well and truly into the third trimester, now, and he couldn’t help but feel like this actually _was_ going to happen for them. Their ‘surprise’ baby shower here was very much in a script, but he was happy to play a few games on stage for the good of their publicity, and he knew his husband would enjoy himself too considering Cas hadn’t given him any option in having a real one. 

“You’re not having one?” Jimmy pretended to look shocked. “Well, I think we ought to change that, don’t you?” He addressed the audience, who cheered and clapped excitedly.  

Moments later, more loud screeching from the studio audience, and Cas cast his head over his right shoulder to glimpse his husband striding towards him, looking somehow a little smarter than usual in a tight black shirt and light denim skinny jeans that hugged his ass. Cas eyed him up and down hungrily before remembering he was on set, and earned a raised eyebrow and a smirk from the mechanic who definitely wouldn’t be letting him forget about that later. 

“Dean!” Jimmy complained, feigning shock and horror. “Castiel tells me you hadn’t planned on having a baby shower to welcome your new arrival!” 

“No, we hadn’t!” Dean exclaimed, pretending to be just as horrified. But he was a terrible actor, and his grin was shining through his fake horror. Cas watched the scripted exchange, smirking. 

“Well, let’s have one now!” Jimmy announced, and on cue pink and blue confetti in the shape of newborns fell from somewhere above the set, complete with balloons while a chirpy, musical tune played over the sound system. The audience were clapping and whooping their approval, settling into their seats to greedily watch whichever games Jimmy had lined up. 

Cas was busy brushing the confetti from his hair while Dean laughed, settling down into his own chair. 

“The first game we have to play is called ‘feed the daddy’.” Jimmy said with a grin, and he bent down, from somewhere below his desk pulling out three items, a blindfold, a spoon, and a jar of baby food. 

Getting the picture immediately, Cas groaned, and Dean stood, just bellowing with laughter as Jimmy tied the blindfold around his eyes and spun him so many times it would make anyone nauseous. At the command, then, Cas stood up, keeping his eyes narrowed as a wobbly Dean edged closer to him. 

Jimmy loaded the spoon up with an ominous orange colour baby food, and although he was dreading both the taste and the mess, Cas couldn’t help but smile at the beautiful grin on Dean’s lips as his husband took the spoon and stumbled towards him, hands groping out in an attempt at aiming the spoon to his mouth. He wasn’t succeeding particularly well, and his head kept spinning where he was clearly dizzy, but Dean did eventually land his free hand on Castiel’s neck, even if the spoon then collided with his cheek and smeared the strange orange mush all over his jaw. 

The audience and Jimmy were laughing hysterically by this point, and Cas suspected the exasperation he was feeling was evident in his expression, because most of the laughter seemed to be aimed at him. He rolled his eyes, hands coming up to grab the blindfold and yank it away from Dean’s face so his husband could see the mess he’d made. Dean just laughed harder at the sight, but he did grab a tissue off of Jimmy’s desk and wipe Castiel’s cheek for him with a smirk. And he did then plant a long kiss against the spot. 

“Tastes like carrot.” Dean shrugged, grinning, as he pulled back. 

When Jimmy had caught his breath from laughing so much, he turned to Castiel with a grin. “Your turn to humiliate him now.” He said. “This next game is called ‘DIY diaper’.” He announced as he pulled a roll of toilet paper from the mystery space behind his desk. 

Hell yes, Cas could get on board with this. Obediently, Dean stood, chewing down somewhat nervously on his lip as Castiel took the roll of paper and sunk to his knees in front of his husband, pushing it through Dean’s legs and wrapping it, again and again, around his hips and over his crotch. If Cas didn’t know any better, he’d say that Dean almost looked like he was struggling not to get turned on. But then, he supposed, it wasn’t often that Cas would get on his knees in front of Dean without making his day that little bit better. He smirked seductively up at him from where he was still wrapping his makeshift diaper around his legs, before finally tearing the paper and tucking it in. 

“Think you can manage not to make a mess of that?” He teased as he stood back up, and Dean laughed, but it was a little awkward and a tinge of pink rose to his cheeks. Cas hadn’t intended that to sound remotely sexy, he’d been referring to the mess Dean had made with the baby food more than anything, but clearly his husband was on the aroused side of happy. The huge quantity of toilet paper in front of his groin might be a blessing in disguise right about now. 

“You’re definitely keeping that diaper on for the rest of the show.” Jimmy laughed, and Dean just shrugged, playing to the audience’s amusement. “This next game is for both of you, and it’s called ‘pin the bow on the baby’.” 

Again, the blindfold came out, as did a large bow set onto a pin and a huge poster of a cartoon baby in a pink diaper. They were given instructions to pin the pink organza bow onto the baby’s head, much as a child would pin a tail on a donkey. 

Dean took his turn first, blindfold going back on over his eyes as Jimmy and Cas spun him around together. He ambled towards the poster, and his movement, in fairness, was very hampered by his _DIY diaper_. But Cas wouldn’t admit that to him later even if he asked. The mechanic surged towards the poster, pushing the bow in with what looked like all of his strength. Cas broke down laughing to the point that he was almost falling over when Dean stepped back, and Jimmy was rolling in his chair, howling. 

The bow had landed slap bang on one of the baby’s nipples. 

After pulling off his blindfold, Dean seemed to understand why everyone was so entertained, and his own laughter started then, and he grabbed Castiel’s shoulder to steady himself. 

“You better not dress our real baby like that.” Cas managed to spit out when he’d composed himself a few minutes later. 

“I can promise you without doubt that I will _not_ dress our real baby like that.” Dean grinned. 

Next, was Castiel’s turn, and he somehow managed to do even worse than his husband, without the excuse of a _DIY diaper_. His bow landed somewhere even more intimate, and the two were clutching each other, laughing hysterically, and promising each other, loudly, that they would never try to dress their baby while blindfolded. 

After that, Jimmy had them up, both blindfolded now, swinging a bat at a piñata. It was Dean that was first to break it with a deep swing, and they heard the telltale sign of candy hitting the floor as the piñata caved in. Jimmy was busy tossing the candy out to the clammering audience, and when they took their blindfolds off, they picked up their prize, a small white sleep suit with Jimmy’s smiling face right in the middle. One that they were bound to _treasure_ forever and swear never to put their child in. 

Their child. This was actually going to happen? Castiel’s anxieties resurfaced and he couldn’t help but let his good mood be corroded by doubt.

But later, when they were in lying naked in bed and extremely satisfied, Cas actually felt hope. 

This would all be alright, wouldn’t it? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally feeling human again. Thanks for your well wishes! Apologies for these late updates that are probably full of mistakes but there we go. This one's just a a little short chapter, time ticking along because we're really in the home stretch now. Only 4 more chapters to publish...!


	49. Away From All the Fears

It's empty in the valley of your heart,

The sun, it rises slowly as you walk,

**Away from all the fears,**

And all the faults you've left behind.

 

It was always really awkward, when people clearly didn’t recognise him. It’s not like he wanted everyone to know who he was. It’s not like he cared, and it was actually quite refreshing. It’s just that it was so uncommon for someone not to immediately go all weird and ask for a selfie or a signature, and he knew it would get awkward just as soon as they worked it out. So that was the thing, wasn’t it, did he tell them now and get it over with, or wait and see if they figured it out for themselves? 

Maybe it was the fact that he was at a prenatal class in the first place, and he’d made Kevin wait in the car. Let’s be honest, not exactly somewhere you’d expect to find a Hollywood movie star, and especially not a very gay Hollywood movie star. But anyway, he was there with Charlie, whose bump was now quite happily protruding out so far she couldn’t see more than her toes when she looked down, his son growing nicely inside of her. There were a bunch of other people there, too. About eight other pairs — he didn’t really like the word couple — who were sitting around this stupid circle as they were taught about labour and birth. He was pretty interested, it was a miracle after all, but at the same time there was way too much talk about vaginas and some of the very straight and very masculine alpha males present had dropped a couple of fairly inappropriate jokes that made him ashamed to be a man in the first place.

So all in all, completely uncomfortable. 

No one had thought to ask whether he and Charlie were an item, it had just been assumed that they were. Probably, it would have been easier if Dean had been able to come with them, but his husband was working late tonight, and he’d been quite forthright about how little he’d wanted to attend this particular class. The one that explains how to look after a baby, he’d said, he was interested in, but this was, to quote, _women’s business_ , and he was of the impression that if one of Charlie’s birth partners had an idea of what was going on then it would be a-ok. 

It was getting a little bit _more_ uncomfortable though, and with every minute that he hadn’t set the record straight he felt weirder, especially since he’d somehow ended up kneeling behind Charlie and massaging her shoulders. The tension in them suggested that she felt pretty weird about this, too, and a glance over at this one woman, more or less the only one in the circle who’d obviously realised who he was, told her that yeah, it was weird, and with that he stopped. 

As he backed off and shuffled back onto his ass, Charlie turned to lock eyes with him, an awkward, uncomfortable expression in her features. Maybe she’d wished that he’d been more upfront with these people sooner. He smiled though, to get rid of the weird sensation in his gut, and she grinned back. 

Her eyebrows did quirk up in interest though, ten minutes or so later, when one of the men in the circle, who’d been giving him curious looks for some time now, sucked in a deep breath while staring right at him. Cas locked onto his gaze, sure he was about to get found out and things were going to go from weird to weirder, but the guy smiled brightly. 

“Sorry I keep staring, I was trying to figure out who you look like.” The man explained excitedly. “Has anyone ever told you how much you look like Castiel Novak?” 

Ok, so not quite found out? Cas felt the blush rise to his cheeks as he considered his two options, while Charlie struggled to hold in her chuckles at his side. One, he could just be outright about it and risk them laughing or going all weird — _I am Castiel Novak_ — or two, he could play along with the lie, and risk things getting worse next week when Dean joined him. 

“Oh my god, you so do!” One of the women pitched in with a high pitched squeal, grinning broadly. “You’re better looking than him though.” 

And now Charlie was losing it, because what the fuck? How could he be better looking _than himself?_  

“And you’re much happier. He’s a bit gloomy and subdued.” Someone else chimed in. 

“I think he seems like a pretty cool dude.” Charlie chirped up in his defence. “And if he ever _is_ gloomy, well, they look like they’ve been through a lot.” 

“That’s true.” The first woman nodded her agreement. “They always seem like they’re dealing with some shit. He and his husband are so cute, though, you can’t not root for those two. How they got back together after all that time despite the odds, it could be a movie in itself.” 

“They’re having a baby too, aren’t they?” The second woman was smiling. Cas couldn’t help but feel like they were all being a bit obtuse. 

“Yeah, I think you’re right. Good for them.” The first woman grinned. 

It was like being a fly on the wall, having these people discuss him without realising who he was. It could have been worse though, they could have said far more terrible things about him than pointing out that he’d been down recently. Luckily, though, on that front he was starting to feel better. Having their son to look forward to had really helped him to pull out of that horrible slump. But still, there was no way he could own up to who he was now, so he settled on a half truth, and by the time that the natter had died down and they all went quiet, still staring at him, he let out a little laugh. 

“No.” He said, honestly. He hadn’t ever been told that he looked like himself, in his defence, so it wasn’t a lie. “No one has ever told me that.” 

“Seriously, man, you could get body double work, it’s uncanny.” Came the reply, and then the attention shifted thankfully away from him again. When the coast was clearer, Charlie shot him a look, and he glanced down at her smirk, rolling his eyes and shaking his head lightly while she grinned. Apparently it was hilarious. 

A little while later, and they were talking about pain relief options for labour. Nothing could get quite so weird as when they were discussing perineal massage, so this should be a walk in the park. The tutor, a woman with long, braided hair, wearing a variety of colours and looking like she should have just walked out of Woodstock, was informing them about the benefits of water in labour, and using a birthing pool for delivery. Castiel didn’t even know that was a thing. He’d just presumed it would be like it was in his movies, where this woman’s legs would be pulled up into poles and a doctor would sit there and yell at her to push until a baby came out. He didn’t know much, as it turned out. 

When the conversation turned around to men joining their partners in the birthing pool, and someone actually asked his opinion, Cas couldn’t hold in his discomfort any more. He had to come clean. 

“No way.” He said, shaking his head and looking at Charlie almost apologetically. Not that he knew what he was apologising for. Not that he needed to apologise. If she got in a birthing pool there was no chance she’d want him to join her. “I’m not… we’re not… I’m _very much_ gay.” He gave as his explanation, before furrowing his brow and looking at the floor, wondering how else he could have handled that. 

At his admission, Charlie burst out laughing, while the woman that had asked him blushed and apologised. She was obviously affluent, with expensive clothes and silky smooth, long brown hair, and she had a strong British accent. “I’m sorry.” She said, flustered. “I didn’t mean to assume. I just… you’re wearing a wedding ring, so I thought she was your wife.” 

Castiel smiled in reassurance that he didn’t mind while Charlie struggled to catch her breath. “But she’s not wearing a ring!” Cas said in confusion. 

“Neither am I.” The woman shrugged, looking suddenly sad. “My fingers have swollen up.” 

Charlie butted in then, to save it from getting any more awkward. “It’s ok, he doesn’t mind.” She chuckled. “I’m his surrogate.” 

“It’s an amazing thing that you’re doing.” The woman replied, and Cas could only roll his eyes as Charlie winked at him and shot him a _damn straight._  

They were paired with that same couple then a bit later on some exercise, a weird game they’d created that was sort of like bingo but involved way too many uncomfortable words, like vagina and perineum and cervix, and Cas couldn’t wait until he was allowed to get home and stop thinking about his best friend’s genitals. He’d already been told, and quite rightly, too, that during the birth he and Dean were to remain strictly at the head end, a plan he was more than on board with. 

As the game came to an end, as did the session, the woman smiled up at them both. “Do you know? Boy or girl?” She asked. 

“Boy.” Castiel beamed, proud as punch. “Bobby, we’re calling him. How about you?” 

“A girl. We’re yet to pick a name, but we like the old ones, like Edith and Betsy.” 

Charlie grinned. “Those are very cute.” 

“Are you coming to the next session?” The woman asked. “I’m Bela, by the way. What did you say your names are?” 

And shit, this was make or break, probably. But maybe it didn’t have to be. Cas mulled his options over quickly while Charlie responded, and Bela turned her attention to him. “I’m Cas.” He said simply, and obviously using the short version of his name worked, because she barely batted an eye. It was going to get pretty awkward when she twigged. 

 

*

 

Castiel and Charlie were purposefully slow in leaving, for the sole purpose of keeping their identity quiet, so by the time that they were climbing back into their waiting car — a Bentley — they were alone. 

“Why didn’t you want them to know who you are?” Charlie quizzed him almost as soon as he’d shut the door. 

Cas sighed. “It wasn’t intentional, really, it just went past the point where it was appropriate to say and then it got weird.” He admitted. 

“You realise it’s going to be even weirder now when Dean comes next week? There’s no way they won’t figure it out when you’re together.” Charlie said, but she was still smiling as if she didn’t really care. 

“Yeah, I know.” Cas rubbed his cheeks with his hands. “It’s nice sometimes though, just to be someone normal.” 

“I get that.” She said, and she leant herself back against the car door trying to get comfortable, going uncharacteristically quiet as the car rolled along the streets leading back to her house. Some twenty minutes passed in almost complete, peaceful silence, and Cas felt half asleep as their car stopped at the end of Charlie’s driveway, her Beverly Hills home perched atop a hill, the old fashioned exterior and quaint, landscaped gardens giving way to a modern inside and pool. Castiel had bought this house for her two years ago when he’d convinced her to leave Kansas to be nearer to them. She hadn’t complained at all on seeing the property. 

Now that they were stationary, Cas took it upon himself to climb out of the car, and insisted upon helping her out himself. There may still be a month and a half left of the pregnancy but his child looked fit to burst out of her, and her movement was entirely impaired by how swollen her stomach was. He offered out a hand, which she took, and he heaved as she stood, pulling slowly up onto her feet. 

Cas shot her a smile as she straightened out her t-shirt, which had ridden up a little onto her bump, and when she’d finished she opened her arms out in offer of an embrace, which he took. He clutched her close to his chest, still completely, wordlessly grateful at what she was doing for them, and he beamed as she wrapped her arms around him, too. 

“If you’d have told me five years ago that one day I’d have Castiel Novak’s child growing inside me I’d have told you to fuck off.” Charlie laughed, and he chuckled in response, but as he went to pull away, he felt a strange movement against his stomach, and he froze. 

“What…?” He began to ask, but Charlie had fastened her arms again, holding him in place. 

“It’s Bobby.” She said. “He’s moving.” 

It was completely surreal, but at the same time completely amazing, that when he did let go and put his hand instead on Charlie’s abdomen, he could feel fluid movements and rough kicks as his baby turned and wriggled inside his friend. It was the first time he’d felt it, although typically the baby had performed for Dean on many an occasion before. 

“Guess he _does_ like the sound of his daddy’s voice.” Charlie grinned, and when the movements had come to a slow stop, Castiel rolled his eyes at the comment. 

 

*

 

By the time that he was arriving home he was completely desperate just to see Dean’s face and throw himself back into his own life. It felt like his whole evening was an act, and he’d been unfaithful to himself. All the talk of women’s bodies had scarred him a bit, too. And that birth video they’d been forced to watch would stay with him for the rest of his days, he was sure. He half expected to wake up tonight screaming, thinking that something was trying to break out of him. 

So when he’d climbed out of the car, he hurried through the house, finding Dean lounging on the couch with a beer in one hand and the TV remote in another, casually flipping through channels with a frown, trying to find something to watch. Cas beamed at the sight of him, diving happily forward and taking a seat next to his husband, who shot him a smile as he looked up. 

“Hey.” Dean greeted him. “How was the class?”

“I can’t even tell you how awkward it was.” Cas groaned, letting himself curl into Dean’s open arms. 

“Why was it awkward?” Dean asked curiously, running a hand through Castiel’s hair. 

“So many reasons.” Cas sighed, revelling in the touch. “Partly because I spent my entire evening getting grossed out by vaginas, and by men’s immaturity in general, actually, and partly because no one recognised me.” 

“Seriously? No one? That must be a first.” Dean commented. 

“It was so uncomfortable.” Castiel complained. “I didn’t mind, don’t get me wrong, but then someone said to me outright, _you look like Castiel Novak_ , and then they all started talking about me and it was very, very strange. When someone asked my name then, I didn’t know what to say, I just said Cas.” 

Dean was laughing now, shamelessly mocking his husband’s discomfort. “Sorry, babe, but that’s hilarious.” 

Cas rolled his eyes. “The worst part was that they said I was better looking than… him? Me? How can I be better looking than myself?” 

“It’s true.” Dean grinned, staring down into Castiel’s curious, slightly narrowed eyes. “You’re much more gorgeous in person.” 

“You’re an idiot.” Cas said, but he was more than happy to let Dean kiss him when his husband moved in close. 

“But was it good? The class?” Dean asked then, changing the subject back.

Castiel shrugged. “I don’t know if I’d say good, to be honest. I think Charlie found it useful, and it was informative I suppose, but it was very graphic. It made things seem really weird.” 

“And you wonder why I didn’t want to go?” Dean chuckled. 

“Well one of us had to.” Cas said, poking Dean in the stomach with a grin. “I made the sacrifice for our son.” 

“I’ll join you in the sacrifice next week.” Dean laughed. “That’s the one where they actually teach you about looking after a baby, right? That’s kinda the only one that seems important.” 

“Yeah, it is.” Cas nodded. He was still smiling, but he paused, looking away from his husband for a moment. “I’m really excited.” He began, a little nervous. “But I’m getting scared again. It’s getting real, now. He’ll be here in what, six weeks?” 

“Scared?” Dean questioned, and Cas suddenly felt a little embarrassed, until his husband smiled. “Cas, I’m fucking terrified. It’s one thing having the nursery ready, having all this crap bought and new numbers in our phones and I don’t know, stupid top of the range baby monitors, but it’s going to be another actually _raising_ a child.” 

“You feel like this too?” Castiel asked, relieved. “I thought it was just my anxiety again.” 

“Trust me, babe, I’m freaking out.” Dean said, and Cas could see the fear in his eyes so he knew he wasn’t lying. “I want him here, safe, with all my heart, but it is literally the most terrifying thing we’ve ever done and ever will do. Cas, I love you, and I already love him just as much, but I have no idea what I’m doing. Sam said that he and Jess were the same though, with Lily, that they were scared too. I _have_ to go to that stupid class next week because I need some idea of how to keep a small human alive.” 

Cas scoffed a laugh. “We’ll figure it out together, I promise.” 

“It’ll come naturally enough, right?” Dean said, but his eyes were telling a very different story to his lips. 

“I’m sure it will.” Cas grinned. “We want the right things for him, we’ll be ok.” He paused, wriggling into a more comfortable position against Dean’s side. “In other news, I finally felt him move today.” 

“See, I told you he knows your voice too.” Dean laughed.

 

*

 

Needless to say, after Castiel’s review of last week’s class and level of testosterone he’d described from the attending men, Dean hadn’t been particularly looking forward to this evening. Although, in a slightly sadistic kind of way, he was almost excited about the moment where everyone realised who his husband actually was. That, he thought, might be incredibly entertaining. 

Castiel, however, was sat shuffling his feet awkwardly next to him on the drive down. His husband looked far from keen on seeing all of those people again, but he could hardly back down seeing as going to these classes had been his idea in the first place. On spotting his discomfort, though, Dean draped his arm around his shoulder in support, and Cas shot him a gentle, light smile in response. His eyes were bright and happy, but Dean could see he was a little nervous. He pressed a kiss against his forehead, carding his fingers through his hair, while Castiel hummed at the touch. 

“Castiel?” Kevin called from the front seat, winding down the barrier between the front and the back. Both he and Cas looked up to meet the security guard’s gaze as they waited for him to continue. “Tonight, I’m coming in with you.” He insisted. 

“What? No, you don’t need to.” Cas protested, but actually, Dean was on Kevin’s side this time. 

“I think he should, Cas. I know it’s hardly like anyone’s a threat but they didn’t know who you are last week, this time they’re gunna figure it out. We’re more obvious together.” Dean smiled, but his husband just shot him an exasperated look. 

“It’s already going to be awkward, I don’t really want to have to bring my bodyguard in there too.” Cas complained. 

“I’m not asking, Castiel. If you’re both going in then I am too.” Kevin said firmly, and sometimes Dean wondered at how easily he talked back to his boss. He guessed that’s what he was paid to do, in a roundabout way. Protect them, even from themselves. He remembered trying to talk back once to Bobby when he’d been working in Kansas, and how he’d earned a glare and lost his lunch break. Cas didn’t seem to mind though, and to be honest, Kevin was almost always right anyway.

“I can’t wait to see their faces when they realise who you are.” Charlie smirked after they’d picked her up. While Dean tried not to laugh, Cas looked, if possible, a little more pissed off than he had done a few minutes ago, and he sat with his arms folded, pouting, for the rest of the ride down. 

It had actually been one of the more entertaining moments of Dean’s life, when they’d arrived at the venue. There were two couples conversing just outside of the door, and they turned to look when the driver automatically got out and opened the door to their very expensive car for them. Dean piled out first, Castiel following reluctantly behind while the driver was helping Charlie out of the other side. It took less than thirty seconds for their faces to drop as they approached them, and by the time that they were standing with them, there was almost no colour left in any of their cheeks. 

It was _hilarious_. And Charlie was stood there trying her best not to cry with laughter she was barely holding in while Dean shook at her side, looking only at his feet out of willingness not to burst out laughing and thereby lose sex tonight. Cas, meanwhile, was looking anywhere but at anyone, shifting his gaze uncomfortably around the surrounding area, while Kevin stood behind them in his suit, with folded arms. 

No one said anything, until the tutor arrived and hurried forwards to open up the hall, sparing only the slightest, curious glance at Kevin as the others piled quickly in amongst hushed whispers. The security chief took to the back wall as Dean, Castiel and Charlie made their way into the centre of the room, taking a side of the circle to themselves and watching without surprise as everyone else stayed as far away from them as possible. 

In pairs, the rest of the group slowly filtered in, and each time the same thing happened, they’d casually stroll in as if nothing was different even remotely, until their eyes swept over Kevin, at which point they’d furrow their brow, look around the circle, and go pale as soon as they realised just who they were in the company of. One guy in particular went paler than all of the others, and Cas was looking anywhere but at this man. Dean figured that maybe he’d been the one who’d said his husband had looked like the celebrity he actually was. 

The last couple to enter raised a hand to wave at Charlie, and she beamed a happy smile at them, until they too, finally figured out exactly who ‘Cas’ was, and went wide eyed as they sat down, shooting each other a knowing look. 

The tutor began, completely obliviously, but she looked like the type of person who didn’t own a TV, so she was probably entirely unaware of why the atmosphere felt suddenly extremely awkward. 

It went on for a while, the teacher ranting about the benefits of breastmilk — not really an option for them — while Cas sat there looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him up. After a little while of this, it was getting a bit old, and Dean was starting to get a bit pissed off about how many times he’d caught the tail end of his husband’s name being whispered. There was immaturity, and then there was rudeness. 

So, when the tutor made some reference — _it’s not what it’s like in the movies_ — Dean decided that, fuck it, he was taking matters into his own hands. 

“Yeah, well Castiel doesn’t know any better.” He said, forcing a laugh. A nervous giggle ran through the room at the crappy joke, while his husband shot him a cautious, curious look that was almost a little bit irritated. “What?” Dean shrugged. “Better to address the elephant in the room, right?” 

The tutor looked completely bewildered, which amused Dean almost as much as the blushes that crept onto the cheeks of all the other couples they were sitting with. 

“So, you _are_ Castiel Novak, then?” A woman piped up, and after finally tearing his slightly agitated eyes away from Dean’s, Castiel looked around at the circle of people. 

“Yeah.” He admitted. 

“I’m so sorry for saying that you looked… like you… I feel like a complete idiot.” The guy that had been the most embarrassed on entrance chirped up, and Cas just smiled, shrugging, while both Dean and Charlie were struggling to contain their laughter. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Dean insisted. “He told me about that. It made my night.” 

By the end of the session, things felt a lot more relaxed, and it actually felt like they could stay in touch with some of these people. Towards the end of the night, Cas had caught his eye, offering a light smile, and just by the look on his face Dean could tell he was pleased with how it had gone, and that actually, he’d enjoyed himself. It had been useful, too. Dean came away feeling like maybe he could actually keep Bobby alive.

At least long enough to call Jess for help, anyway. 

 

*

 

Two weeks later, and they were in bed. It was half ten, and Dean was literally in heaven. His hands were tied to the headboard, his eyes blindfolded, and Cas was buried deep inside of him, pulling slowly out only to fuck back in with force. His cock was aching with a desire for pressure, but he couldn’t touch it any more than he could persuade his husband to. Cas fucked into him again and he wailed, but he promptly shut his mouth when Cas demanded he be silent. 

“Shh.” Cas hissed, and Dean almost felt like complaining when he slipped out and away from him, leaving him empty, cold, and so turned on he might burst. He couldn’t see what his husband was doing, but he could hear rustling, and it took a while but he eventually heard the humming of a vibrating phone, so it was little surprise when his husband’s voice rang through the room. 

“Charlie?” Castiel answered, a confusion and concern in his voice. 

Against his ties, Dean strained, trying at least to knock off the blindfold so he could actually see his husband’s face. He had no idea why their friend would be ringing at this time of night, unless something was wrong. But surely it couldn’t be wrong now, right? Everything had been fine. Bobby still had three weeks to go, she couldn’t be in labour or anything. 

Cas had obviously noticed his struggles, because he rushed out a _hold on_ down the phone as his hands found Dean’s face and pushed the blindfold out of the way. Dean blinked as the light flooded back in, but he furrowed his brow at the sight of the concern in Castiel’s expression as he flicked the phone onto speaker.

“Can you say that again?” He asked, because he’d missed whatever she was saying while he’d been freeing his husband. 

“I said don’t panic, but, I’m in the hospital.” Charlie said, and Dean felt his heart suddenly skip a beat. 

“What do you mean you’re in the hospital?” Cas said, quite clearly alarmed. Dean wanted to reach out to him, but his hands were still tied. 

“Look, it’s fine, nothing’s going to happen until morning, but —”

“—But what?” Castiel was almost yelling, and Dean nudged him with a knee to try and get him to see sense. 

“My water broke.” Charlie explained. “And they want to induce labour.” 

“Your water broke.” Castiel repeated, panic stricken. “What do you mean they want to induce labour? They can’t! He’s still too early!” 

“Babe, it’s fine.” Dean protested, trying to calm his husband down with use of only his legs. His arousal had been long forgotten in his shock and distress. 

“Trust me, Cas, I’m a whale. This kid is _not_ too early.” Charlie sighed, and Dean could almost see her eye roll. “And besides, the OB-GYN is sensible, he wouldn’t recommend it if it wasn’t ok.” 

“So what are you saying Charlie? Is he coming?” Dean said, trying to be the voice of reason. 

“Soon, yeah. So they did an internal exam and they want to keep me in overnight, and if I haven’t gone into labour naturally then they want to start this process tomorrow, because he’s not been moving that much and —”

“—He’s not moving?” Cas interrupted suddenly, breathing heavily. 

“Cas, calm down.” Dean demanded firmly, and his husband suddenly met his eye, looking as panicked and anxious as he ever had done himself. It was no surprise Charlie hadn’t wanted to involve them until she knew the deal, when his husband was so damned nervous. Cas placed the phone down on the bed as he leant up to untie Dean’s hands, and Dean pulled him into a hug when he was free. 

“He is still moving, just not as much as normal.” Charlie went on, trying to keep her voice level. “It’s fine, Cas, they’ve checked him out and he’s good. He just needs to come out, ok?” 

“Ok.” Cas said quietly, nodding. Dean could tell how much calmer he was just for being held. 

“Do we need to come down there?” Dean asked. 

“Not yet.” Charlie explained. “I’ll let you know if anything changes, but if you don’t hear from me just come here first thing in the morning, and bring your baby stuff.” 

“Are you ok? Do you need me to bring you anything?” Cas questioned. 

“Honestly, I’m good. They treat you like royalty in these places. It’s better than a hotel I swear.” Charlie laughed, and she said _goodbye_ and _don’t panic_ before hanging up the phone. 

“Well, babe, looks like you might have to cancel your plans for the next couple of weeks.” Dean whispered into the silence that remained between them a few moments later. Cas buried his face against Dean’s chest, breathing slowly to try and remain calm. 

“I can’t help freaking out.” He choked. “What if it all goes wrong?” 

“Cas, her water broke, it’s not that dramatic.” Dean said quietly, soothing. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. We’re actually gunna get to meet him, baby, our son.” 

“How in hell am I supposed to sleep, now?” Cas asked, but he was smiling now at least. 

“I dunno.” Dean said in response. “But it might be the last full night of sleep we get for a few years, so I suggest you make the most of it.” 


	50. You're Gunna Be the One That Saves Me

It was easier said than done, getting their last full night of sleep. Dean had given it a good shot for an hour or so, pretending to be asleep and waiting for Castiel to drift off, too, but it was no use, and when he flashed his eyes back open and rolled his head, he looked straight into his husband’s anxious gaze. Castiel had complained some more, expressed some more worries and anxieties while Dean had held him, and after they’d kissed for a few minutes they’d had the idea to carry on their interrupted activities, and Cas had fucked him roughly until they were crying out each other’s names. They had, after that, managed to finally drift off for a couple of hours, even if the sleep was light and fitful. 

By the time they next woke, though, it was still very much dark, and a glance at the clock told them it wasn’t long past 2am. They’d been disturbed by Dean’s phone, which was humming out a tune as Dean groped blindly towards it, sleep addled and confused. 

“Get the fuck down here, _now_.” Charlie yelled as soon as the line had connected. Dean went to respond, but before he could her voice faltered into a moan, and before she hung up she cursed again, loudly. 

Springing into action, Dean ripped back the covers as Cas looked up at him with scared eyes. “We gotta go.” Dean hurried. “I think she’s in labour.” 

“What? I thought it was happening in the morning, what did she say to you?” 

“She just told me to ‘get the fuck down there', and then she screamed and hung up.” 

They pulled on clothes and radioed down to the security booth to ready a car (and wake up Kevin, he was going to be far from impressed), rushing down the stairs after grabbing the right bags filled with baby clothes and stuff that Dean didn’t really understand. But before Castiel could pull open the front door, Dean placed his hands firmly on his husband’s shoulders, and directed their gazes together. He could see his husband’s anxiety and fear, but also his excitement. 

“This will be the last time we leave this house before we’re fathers.” Dean whispered, and Cas smiled lightly as Dean pulled the door open, and they rushed into their waiting car. 

“So she’s in labour?” Kevin asked once they’d pulled away, hurtling down to the hospital. 

“Yeah, we’re gunna be dads before the day’s out.” Dean said excitedly, but at his side Castiel was pale with anxiety. 

 

*

 

By the time they’d made it to the delivery room, though, Castiel seemed to have got himself together. He’d flipped a switch somewhere inside himself, becoming the supporter instead of the supported. As they rushed in, he was straight to Charlie’s side, completely ignoring Dr Parkins as Charlie watched him with relief that they’d finally arrived. 

“Remember your breathing.” Castiel was whispering hurriedly, one hand on Charlie’s shoulder and another already tangled in hers. The way he was looking out for her took Dean back to all the times Cas had been there for him during his attacks. His husband had been his best support through the years. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.” 

“Fuck that, Cas.” Charlie yelled as another contraction began, and she started to almost grunt with the pain. 

Dean stood awkwardly at the side, feeling completely unprepared and entirely overwhelmed by the pained noises escaping his friend’s lips, and the vast amount of monitors and wires and beeping, but he had to try and make sense of it somehow. 

“What’s happening?” He asked the doctor, as Castiel tried to soothe their friend. 

“So at the last check she was seven centimetres dilated, and the baby’s heart rate is dropping a bit with contractions, so I’m keeping a close eye on it.” Parkins explained, voice steady. 

“Dropping? What do you mean, dropping? Why? What does that mean?” Dean replied, trying not to let his panic overwhelm him, but it was bubbling now at the surface, and it was a bit harder to choke in a breath than it was a moment before. Oh god, not now, please don’t let him have an attack _now_. He tried desperately to pull himself together, but there was so much happening it was hard to make sense of anything. 

“If it carries on for much longer, then I may have to intervene, by performing some tests to ensure that the baby is ok, or by delivering the baby via a c-section.” 

“There is no fucking way you are cutting me open.” Charlie shouted angrily, and Cas shot Dean a worried look, but by this point he’d realised just how much Dean was freaking out, and he let go of Charlie to take a step closer to his husband and wrap his arms around him instead. 

“Are you wishing you’d come to that class, now?” Cas said softly against his ear. Dean sucked in a slow breath as he nodded against Castiel’s shoulder, feeling better just for having his husband’s arms around him and his steady breaths against his ear. 

“How many centimetres dilated does she have to get to?” Dean asked slowly, because he had no idea about anything and oh, god, _why_ didn’t he read that damn pregnancy book? 

“Ten.” Cas whispered, thinking back to that very awkward evening and suddenly incredibly pleased that he’d attended, even if this experience was more like what he’d expected from his movies, no matter what that Woodstock woman had said, than birthing pools and aromatherapy massages. It must be because the baby was early. “I read that babies’ heart rates sometimes slow down later in labour if they’re being compressed, but sometimes it means there isn’t enough oxygen. It’ll be fine, though, yeah? It’ll be ok. The doctor won’t let anything bad happen, just trust him, now come here with me and hold Charlie’s other hand.” 

Dean was so grateful that at least one of them had read that stupid pregnancy book. Doing as he was told, he squeezed in next to his husband, shooting his old friend a grin that was entirely forced as Charlie met his gaze from where she was kneeling, leaning non-compliantly over the back of a couch with stirrups that looked like it most certainly wasn’t designed for that purpose. He took a deep breath, trying to remind himself that they were all safe, that the doctor had done this a thousand times before and would know how to keep them all alive. 

“I’m really glad I’m doing this for you.” Charlie whispered in a break between contractions. “But this is truly, fucking awful.” 

And well, what could he say to that? Cas just let out a little chuckle and whispered a quiet _thank you_ as he stroked a hand down her arm, and she took a few deep breaths, closing her eyes to prepare herself for the next pain. Dean took the opportunity to glance his husband’s way, asking quickly if she was meant to be having quite so many contractions, and Cas just grinned, nodding. At least Cas wasn’t being swallowed by his own anxiety. His calmness was helping. But still, god, he _really_ should have done some more research.

Before long, Charlie’s expression began to contort with pain as another contraction built up, and the noises that escaped her mouth were almost animalistic. Her grip was really fucking painful too, on Dean’s hand, but he supposed that was the least of their worries right now. Even if it felt like his hand might need to be in plaster for a week.

“Do you feel like pushing, Charlie?” The doctor asked when that contraction had died down a little. 

“I _am_ fucking pushing.” She snapped irritably in response, and Dean shot Cas a concerned glance, because he had no idea what the hell was going on and whether that was ok or not. He thought this was meant to take hours. Wasn’t he supposed to be sitting in a chair and reading a magazine right now?

“Then I need you to turn onto your back.” He said firmly. 

“I can’t move.” Charlie complained, and she met Dean’s eyes, his expression giving away his concern and fear. “Dean, are you ok?” She asked, and he had to roll his eyes because even like this she was worrying about him. He must look so terrified for her to notice even in this state. 

“I’m fine.” He assured her, a complete, bold faced lie, and with a gesture of his hands she nodded, allowing him to wrap his arms around her and lift, turning her gently onto her back like the doctor wanted. 

With the next contraction, Dean could feel the energy going into her pushing, and he watched as her stomach hardened, her body taking over. He could hear though, the dum, dum, dum of the heart rate monitor slowing as she pushed, and when he looked at the doctor, he was watching the monitor too with a concerned gaze. 

“Charlie, I can see the baby’s head, but if he’s not been born within the next few contractions then I’m going to have to help him out. He’s starting to get tired.” Parkins said, and Charlie groaned. 

Charlie rolled her head, looking once at Dean, but settling her eyes on Castiel. His husband was smiling at her, wordlessly grateful, and she winced as another contraction began, but she nodded, sucking in a huge breath as she focused all of her efforts into pushing out their baby. 

“That’s really good, Charlie, well done, keep it going.” The doctor was calling, and Dean was resisting the urge to look down, because a part of him wanted to see his son on the way out. The heart rate had slowed again, he could hear, but the doctor was busy opening up various equipment, and he was hoping that meant their baby would be here any moment. 

“That was brilliant, Charlie, a few more like that and he’ll be here.” Parkins said, looking pleased with himself. 

“A few more?” Charlie questioned. “I am getting this kid out on the next contraction.” 

Doctor Parkins actually looked like he was enjoying himself.

It was probably the tensest moment of Dean’s life to date, which when you consider all the near death experiences he had as a child, was saying something, but his spare hand was shaking where he was gripping the back of Castiel’s shirt, and his husband looked like he was about to have a coronary. Dean didn’t think he would be far behind him if he did. The next contraction began slowly, and Dean almost felt like he was pushing too, as Charlie pushed again. She started to gasp in air towards the end of the contraction, and the doctor was yelling at her to slow down. Her eyes flew open wide as she shook with intense pain, and the doctor started using words like _crowning_ , and _pant_ , and Dean realised that _fuck_ , this was it, he was seconds away from becoming a dad. 

He glanced Castiel’s way, his husband looking similarly overwhelmed, and Cas leant his head against Dean’s shoulder as Charlie let out a sigh of relief, and the doctor announced that the baby’s head was out. 

Considering he was never going to get another chance, Dean leaned over and looked down, breath catching in his chest at the sight of the side profile of his son’s head, sticking out from inside his friend. It was literally the weirdest thing he’d ever seen, and ever would see, but at the same time a completely amazing miracle. He pulled straight back up again before Charlie could yell at him, but she wasn’t paying attention to them, instead staring at the ceiling with glazed over eyes, so Cas stole a quick glance too, catching his husband’s eyes as he straightened out, already crying with how overcome he was. 

“One last push, Charlie.” Parkins explained, and Charlie nodded as the contraction began, and as she pushed, the doctor guided their baby out, lifting him up and onto Charlie’s chest as she sighed in relief.

Castiel was watching with wide eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks as the doctor rubbed their baby. He was covered in all this gross stuff, and he was a bit purple, but his colour started to come back as the doctor rubbed him down. 

“Why isn’t he crying?” Cas asked, worried. Dean grabbed his husband’s shoulder in reassurance, leaning into him with a squeeze, but he was concerned, too, and every second that passed in silence he was freaking out even more. 

“Is he ok?” He asked a few seconds later, because the baby still hadn’t cried. The doctor put his hands on the umbilical cord, smiling, and as he moved the baby, their son finally let out a scream, and both the movie star and his husband _finally_ relaxed, clutching each other in complete disbelief that this child was theirs. 

“Oh my god, he looks like you.” Charlie laughed, looking up at Castiel. Dean peered down at his son, tears skating down his cheeks as he took in the scrunched up face that so closely resembled the love of his life, laughing a beautifully happy laugh. 

“He’s the image of you.” Dean agreed. “He’s gorgeous.” 

Cas peeled his eyes away from the beautiful sight before them, then, placing a hand on Dean’s cheek to bring their gazes together. Their eyes met, gazes awash with love, and he beamed as he leant up to kiss his husband firmly, completely overjoyed. 

“Uh, guys?” Charlie said quietly, but they barely heard her over their heartbeats, pounding violently in their ears, and the love that was swelling in their hearts, so they paid no notice. “Guys, look.” She insisted.

Dean turned his head, pulling Cas into his shoulder as he finally paid attention to their best friend, who was pointing down between their son’s legs. Except, he realised, a laugh bubbling in his stomach, it wasn’t their son at all. 

“It’s a girl.” He managed to spit out in complete disbelief. 

Castiel lifted his head, staring at him like he’d lost his mind. “What did you say?” He asked, as if he’d misheard. Dean beamed, pointing at their _daughter_ , and when Cas followed his gaze, looking down at the baby, a new wave of happiness washed through them both. 

“She’s a girl” Castiel sobbed, and Dean couldn’t help but join him in breaking down in a fit of tears, grasping at each other desperately, completely delighted. Dean was more overjoyed than he could ever have thought possible, and his mind was clouded of everything except the fact that he had a daughter. 

“Marry me.” He said, looking at Castiel with a completely serious expression. 

Castiel just looked at him in disbelief, laughing. “We’re already married, you idiot.” He grinned, and as that memory came back to Dean he chuckled too, pulling his husband back against him as he looked between the little girl in Charlie’s arms, and their best friend, who was crying just as hard too. 

 

*

 

A little while later, when Charlie had been sorted out and was looking a bit more like her old self, Dean was sitting in the corner of the room, Castiel at his side, cradling their daughter in his arms. Castiel was completely over the moon, entirely besotted, staring down at the little girl like she was the most important thing in the world. _Because_ she was the most important thing in the world. 

“I feel bad for admitting it, but I’m overjoyed she’s a girl.” Dean said quietly. “I mean, I was happy with a boy, but I did want a girl.” 

“I know.” Castiel soothed, grinning. “I’m pleased she’s a girl too.” 

The baby opened her eyes, one at a time, experimentally looking up at her fathers with a furrowed, grumpy brow, and Dean couldn’t help but grin, because all he could see was Castiel’s morning face staring back at him. Their daughter had thick, raven-black hair, and was the image of her father, entirely beautiful. 

“She’s got green eyes.” Cas whispered, tearing his gaze away from the baby and looking back at his husband. It had been the actor’s idea to choose a donor with the most similar physical attributes to Dean, and Dean had to admit he was pleased about it now, looking into those green eyes that were so much like his own. It made him feel much more like he was a part of her. 

“We’ll have to come up with a name for her.” Castiel said then, still looking into his husband’s eyes. “Unless you still want Bobby, we could go for Roberta, I suppose.”

 Dean laughed. “I think he’d turn in his grave.” He chuckled, and then his expression softened, lifting his hand away from his daughter to stroke his husband’s cheek. “Besides, she’s already got a name, babe.” 

Castiel tilted his head to the side in confusion, waiting for Dean to expand. The actor’s tears began to fall anew as soon as his husband had finished speaking.

“She’s Evelyn.” 

 

Because maybe,

**You're gunna be the one that saves me.**

And after all, 

You're my wonderwall.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, remember what I said about plain sailing? Had to throw in a final twist for you! 
> 
> One more official chapter left, and then a fluffy epilogue! Check back Thursday.


	51. You Know It's Love Heading Your Way

If it feels like paradise running through your bloody veins,

**You know it's love heading your way.**

 

Life as a family? There wasn’t a word that described it better than perfect. 

It was difficult to fathom, really, how something _— someone —_ so small had brought so much contentedness and joy to their lives. It was impossible to have imagined previously the way his heart would fill entirely with love and happiness every time he caught sight of that perfect, pink little baby in the arms of the only other person he’d ever loved so much. 

He hadn’t thought it was possible to love anyone as much as he loved Dean. 

But, as much as his heart swelled with love, fucking hell, he was tired. He and Dean both were. Night feeds and changes, it turns out, are an absolute bitch. Particularly when you’re not used to being kept awake all night. It was a… _different_ sort of tired, though. Not the sort of tired you get when you’ve pulled an all nighter or had drinks with friends into the early hours. It was more chronic, more pronounced, and more than once he’d found himself falling asleep standing up. They were the lucky ones, really. Considering their wealth, they could take whatever time off they wanted. He had no projects upcoming, at least in the foreseeable future, and Dean had taken a break from his various charity commitments. He couldn’t imagine doing this if they had to work, too. 

But none of it mattered. Sleep was nice, but it was a luxury he didn’t need any more. All he needed was his beautiful, loving husband, and their gorgeous baby girl. 

Like any baby, Evie cried a lot. But she also stared up at him with eyes that could easily have been Dean’s, and she blew bubbles and dreamt and looked so goddamn peaceful when she slept. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes upon, and from the way Dean looked at her with awe and, most of the time, tears welled in his eyes, he knew the feeling was mutual. 

Everyone had stayed away for the first week or so. Whether that was out of respect for their privacy and letting them adjust as a family, or for a different reason, Cas didn’t know, but he hadn’t minded the time as just the three of them to get to know his daughter. Charlie would check in day by day, just a quick text or a call, and they’d offer the same courtesy, ensuring her no longer pregnant self was physically alright as well as generally ok. Cas didn’t know if it was weird, that the child she’d grown and bonded with was no longer a part of her, but she never let on if she had any strange feelings about it. 

Sam and Jess had sent them a care package with baby things and food when they’d heard their news, and they’d planned to fly out to visit the following week. Naomi too, had kept her distance, but Cas was expecting her to turn up unannounced at any moment, so when he saw the intercom buzzing to say the gate was opening, it was no real surprise that the monitor showed her car tracking up their driveway. 

Right now, they were on the couch. The TV was on, but god knows what it was playing. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything in the last week since his life had turned upside down — not that he’d have it any other way — so anything could be on. At his side, Dean was passed out. Blindly, entirely asleep, had been for some time. It was his turn to mind Evie, and the baby girl was tucked in the nook of his arm, as sound asleep as her other daddy. Cas was half asleep himself, and if Evie would settle in her cot without someone holding her he’d be gone too right now. 

After a few more minutes there was a soft tap on the living room door, and Cas leaned his head back over the couch, smiling as Naomi peered inside and met his gaze. 

“Am I disturbing you?” Naomi asked quietly, stepping inside a few more paces when Cas shook his head. 

“No.” Cas said, and Naomi came the rest of the way forward, bending over him to look at the raven-haired baby girl in his arms, face and heart alike melting at the sight of the peaceful baby. Cas watched the change of expression in his manager’s eyes, feeling a surge of fondness for a woman that was for all intents and purposes, the closest thing to a grandparent Evie might ever know. He blinked away a tear that had welled, wondering when in hell he’d gotten so emotional, but Naomi was almost crying too when he met her eyes. She beamed, leaning forward and wrapping an arm loosely around his shoulder, a hug which he returned to the best of his ability in his awkward position, and he smiled at the feeling of her lips against his cheek. 

“She’s beautiful.” Naomi whispered, and Cas nodded. 

“I… she’s entirely perfect.” Cas agreed. He shifted then, gently moving his arms until he could safely stand, and Naomi folded her arms as Evie was handed to her. 

Naomi’s bright smile was full of love as she stared down at the baby she cradled, and Cas sat tiredly back down as his manager took to the couch at their side. With a gentle hand, Castiel stroked his fingers down Dean’s cheeks until his husband opened his eyes, shocked and alarmed. 

“Wha… where’s the baby?” Dean spat out suddenly as Cas’s hands caught his flailing, confused arms. The movie star smiled as he gestured with a nod of his head over to their visitor, and Dean’s eyes brightened considerably at the sight of their manager and friend. 

“Congratulations both.” Naomi said then, when she’d caught Dean’s eye. Dean grinned, a smug, proud grin that filled Castiel’s heart with a warm happiness. “I still can’t believe she’s a girl.” 

“No, nor me.” Dean grinned, chuckling. “I didn’t think they got that stuff wrong! But, I can’t lie, I’m delighted.” 

“Obviously I am too. But we’ll have to redecorate the nursery at some point.” Cas sighed, but he was beaming just as brightly. “And we still need to order new clothes. It’s not like we’d planned on raising her gender neutral, so there’s only so many sleep suits with cars on that you can get away with putting a girl in without looking like you’re trying to make a statement.” 

“She doesn’t mind, do you baby girl?” Dean cooed, shuffling off of the couch and kneeling in front of Naomi and his daughter. “Just because you’re a girl, doesn’t mean you can’t like cars as much as your daddy.” 

Cas laughed, a happy, fulfilled laugh, and when he looked back at the others Dean was staring at him brightly. 

“And how are you two getting on?” Naomi enquired. 

“Good, I think.” Cas shrugged, while Dean yawned. 

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to us, but I can count the hours of sleep I’ve had this week on two hands.” The mechanic complained. 

Naomi’s smile remained, but her eyes cleared like she’d just had some sort of epiphany. 

“Then go to bed.” She said, and Cas furrowed his brow. “If you just show me where your formula and diapers are, then I can look after Evelyn for a few hours.”

Cas looked at her, somewhere between hesitant and incredulous. It wasn’t that he doubted Naomi’s capabilities, but it would be the first time he’d trusted someone else to look after their baby girl. But even so, who better than his manager? She’d helped him for years, now, and she’d always done right by him. Besides, the look in her eyes as she stared down at his daughter, there was nothing but love in that gaze. 

He shot a glance at Dean, but his husband was already staring at him, almost begging in his eyes. So he nodded, smiling. “Alright.” He agreed, and Dean pulled immediately to his feet, dragging over a changing bag with fresh diapers and wipes, and explaining hurriedly how to use the countertop machine that made up formula at a ready-to-drink temperature. Naomi smiled in understanding, and adjusted her arms gently to allow Dean to stoop down and plant a kiss on his daughter’s forehead before stepping away to give Castiel space. 

“You need any help, Nay, you come get us.” Cas said, the panic that underlined his tone such that only a father could feel for his baby girl. 

“Of course I will, Castiel, but we’ll be fine.” She reassured him, and Cas let his intense gaze drop as he too bent to press a kiss on Evie’s head. 

It felt almost a little wrong as he stepped away then, but Dean pulled on his arm to encourage him to move quicker, and before he knew it they were ascending the stairs together, hand in hand, as they headed towards their bedroom. 

“Sorry I almost dragged you.” Dean whispered as they clambered into their own, gloriously comfortable bed. Too many nights had been spent on the couch recently. “Even though I know she’s only downstairs and she’s in good hands, it was hard to leave her. I had to get it over and done with.” 

“I know.” Cas smiled in agreement. “I’m not sure I _would_ have left if you hadn’t dragged me.” 

“She’s just so perfect.” Dean grinned. 

“She is.”

“Must take after you.” Dean chuckled. 

“Obviously.” Cas smirked. “Although her other daddy is pretty perfect himself.” 

Dean rolled his eyes before Cas leaned in to kiss him, but he couldn’t disguise the little sigh of contentedness that slipped from his lips as the actor pulled slightly back. Cas watched the calm, peaceful expression in Dean’s eyes for a long moment, and although he was fighting off his tiredness, his dick was starting to think about the opportunity they’d been given. He pushed in again, licking against Dean’s lips as the mechanic gave way in surprise, parting them gently and letting his tongue roll with Castiel’s. 

Suddenly extremely horny, Cas let his hand slide to Dean’s ass and pulled, rocking Dean’s groin forward and into his hip. Getting with the program, Dean moaned quietly, his head rolling back as Cas thrust forward, shuffling to line their growing erections together between their sweatpants. He wanted this, wanted the whole experience, Dean’s ass in the air and wrists tied to the headboard, wanted to fuck his husband until he couldn’t walk straight, but his brain was so fucking tired. He thrust forward again, catching Dean’s gaze, and he knew that all they needed right now was to do this together. 

Cas pulled his sweatpants and boxers down before focusing on Dean’s own, and soon he had his hand wrapped tightly around their thick cocks together. As he began a slow rhythm, Dean gasped, and when he finally started to pick up the pace some minutes later, Dean was writhing. He pumped firmly and along the entire length, and he watched as his husband’s mouth fell open, as a tiny collection of drool gathered in the corner as he panted. He stared as Dean’s eyes widened, as his body started to shudder, and he pumped even harder when he felt Dean’s cock spurt and spill in his hand. His husband grabbed the bedsheets, digging his fingernails in while Cas kept pumping, and Dean was still shaking when Cas finally hit his own release and came between them both. 

After a few minutes, when they’d pulled in as much breath as they could manage, they wiped themselves down, and closed their eyes. 

 

*

 

Their little family had felt even more complete a few days later when Sam and Jess arrived. The lawyer and the nurse had melted at the sight of the tiny black-haired baby that Dean was rocking in his arms as they walked through the door. 

Lily had been more curious than besotted, watching Evie with suspicion, as if wondering why the baby wasn’t able to play with her yet. She toddled around the living room, playing tea party with an exhausted Castiel while her parents cradled her cousin. 

Dean had watched his brother with his daughter, unable to believe that somehow he’d pulled through, that this really _was_ his life now. After everything, the abuse, his lonely ten years without Cas, their crazy arguments in the run up to finally getting together, and all the shit they’d been through afterwards, too, like Evelyn’s death, everything with Adam and Chuck… he’d finally made it. They’d made it.

As if he was thinking the same thing, Cas glanced up at him, an emotion somewhere between disbelief and pure joy on display in his eyes. Dean felt like he could burst, but he let it out as a bright smile instead. 

Jess was still bouncing Evie on her knee when she shot Sam a coy smile, a question in her expression. Dean hadn’t missed their exchange, he’d noticed how Sam gave a little shrug and a nod, and he had just about figured out what they were about to say before they said it at all. 

“We weren’t going to say anything for a few more weeks.” Jess said, blushing, but her smile lit up her entire face. Castiel was watching her now too, a dawning realisation in his eyes. “But, uh, we’ve got another on the way.” 

“You’re pregnant?” Cas asked, beaming. He’d started to scramble to his feet before he’d even finished speaking. 

“Yeah.” Sam grinned. “We haven’t worked out how to tell _her_ yet—” He gestured to his daughter who was still playing, blissfully unaware of the conversation going on around her. “—So adult words only, but yes, it’s still early days, eight weeks.” 

“Congratulations!” Dean exclaimed as Cas offered his own sentiments and they all exchanged long hugs. 

“It’ll be nice to have all of these cousins so close in age.” Jess smiled. “Which I guess brings us to our other news…?” She turned to Sam. 

“I’ve been offered a new job.” Sam said carefully, eyes trained on his brother. “It’s very well paid, so I’d be stupid not to take it.” 

“That’s fantastic, Sammy.” Dean said, unsure what his brother was skirting around. 

“The only problem is, we have to move.” Sam went on, and while Dean narrowed his eyes, Cas started to smile, having seen through Sam’s tease. 

“Where are you moving to?” Dean asked, completely unaware that he was being taken on a ride, mind wondering just how much farther his brother could move from him. 

“Well we’ve found this really nice place we like.” Jess continued, trying to keep her face straight. “In Manhattan—” 

“—Manhattan!?” Dean almost yelled. “You’re moving to the other side of the country?” 

“Manhattan Beach.” Sam finished when Dean had finally shut up, and he grinned as he watched Dean’s desperate anger fade into childish excitement. 

“You asshole.” Dean laughed, shaking his head as he lunged forward to envelope his brother in a bear hug. 

“Adult words, Dean.” Sam reminded him, but he squeezed his brother back with an excited expression in his eyes. Dean couldn’t stop smiling, wondering if life could possibly get better than having his entire family surrounding him. Things really had turned around. 

“When are you moving?” Cas asked when Dean had finally let Sam go. Jess was grinning wildly, but she let Sam explain that he still had to work three months notice at his old job, and Jess hadn’t even started looking at local hospitals. The place in Manhattan Beach, it turned out, didn’t exist, it was just part of their little joke to wind him up. Dean rolled his eyes, but he’d noticed Castiel scrolling through available Beverly Hills properties before he could even find it in him to get annoyed that he’d fallen for the ruse. 

“Pick one.” Cas commanded then, handing his phone over to the couple. 

“Cas, no.” Jess shook her head, refusing to look at the multi-million dollar mansions that Cas would buy in cash without a second thought. 

“Jess, yes.” The actor said, grinning. “I’m going to wire you the money anyway. You may as well make it easier by cutting out the middle man.” 

Dean just grinned, well aware that the contents of their bank accounts would pay for anyone of those mansions more than a thousand times over. Jess exchanged a look with Sam, unsure how to get Cas to stop trying to give them money, unaware that it was impossible. Dean just laughed, and pulled onto his knees, taking Evie from Jess’s lap so that she and Sam could, reluctantly, start to browse through the available properties.

They were still browsing, weighing up whether they’d prefer _that view_ or an infinity pool, when Charlie waltzed in casually, and Dean beamed up at her. They still hadn’t seen her since they’d left the hospital, and although they’d talked a lot, it wasn’t the same. Her body had already returned mostly to its previous shape, the only clue that she’d ever been pregnant the slight rounding of her belly. She looked well, and she looked happy. Dean was just glad it didn’t feel weird. 

After she’d greeted them all and exchanged congratulations, both to the new parents and to Sam and Jess for their two lots of welcome news, Charlie took Evie from Dean’s arms, squealing about how cute she was and how even though she didn’t _actually_ have any of her genes, her good looks were somehow her doing. Dean just laughed, and let Cas curl up against him on the couch as they watched their perfect, growing family. 

 

*

 

He’d been rough all day. Looking after a month old baby was a nightmare when you had a common cold and weren’t feeling 100%. His nose wouldn’t stop running, his head pounded with congestion, and he just felt exhausted. 

But despite the overwhelming tiredness that was aching his every muscle, Castiel still woke up in the night. He glanced at the clock, cursing inwardly when he saw that it was later than 5am, long past his turn to get up with Evie for her night feed. Dean should really have woken him. He rolled, fully expecting to see his husband lying in bed, but he found it empty. The Moses basket too, was unoccupied. Cas was silently grateful for Dean’s obvious interference with their nighttime routine, but he felt guilty all the same. His husband was just as tired. 

So, despite how much his body protested, he dragged back the covers, and padded out into the corridor. 

He could hear small sounds from down the hall. He’d been ready to head downstairs, assuming Dean and their daughter to be in the kitchen for a feed, but apparently Dean had taken Evie into the still blue painted nursery. Although he was unsure why he felt compelled to, Cas crept down the corridor quietly, and hovered in the doorway. 

The sight before him had his heart warming up. Dean was sitting in the snuggle chair next to the window, cradling their wide awake daughter in his arms, gaze torn between the stars and their perfect little girl. Cas was about to make his presence known when Dean started speaking, so stopped short. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he needed to listen. 

“Up there in the stars, that’s where everyone we love go when they die.” Dean was whispering, talking to their daughter as if she’d understand. “My mom’s up there, your grandmother, as is your Uncle Bobby, my dad, although he wasn’t very nice, but also up there is someone who would have loved you so, _so_ much.” 

Cas could already tell where Dean was going with his speech, but he couldn’t bring himself to make a sound. 

“You, Evelyn, are named after a very, _very_ special lady.” Dean went on. “Your grandma saved both of your daddies lives, more than once. She kept us safe, and she looked after us, and I know in my heart that she’s up there somewhere in the stars, that she’s still looking after us, and that she’s going to look after you, so that you get everything you need in this life. So that your life doesn’t have to be so hard as ours were.” 

Maybe it was the sniffing that gave him away. The tears that had welled into his eyes hadn’t helped in that respect. Dean’s head snapped back, eyes softening at the sight of his husband, and without another word, he beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officially, the end! 
> 
> But you have got an epilogue that I will be posting either Monday or Tuesday depending what time I can grab! Thank you all so much for reading and for your support over these last eighteen months with this series. I've been keeping track of comments even if I can't always find the time to reply but your words have meant so much to me. 
> 
> I'm not planning any more works for this series, I'm sorry to say! But I do have a headcanon for something entirely different that may burst its way out at some point when its more fully formed, so watch this space I guess!
> 
> Thank you all again!


	52. Don't Look Back in Anger

The sun sound of their laughter rang out through the yard, high pitched squeals and giggles that only children could make. 

Dean lounged back against the side of the pool, leaning over to take a sip from his drink as he watched his little girl playing with her cousins. The August heat pounded down onto his shoulders, and he rubbed at them aimlessly. 

It had been four years since Evie had come into their lives. Their beautiful daughter, with her raven black hair and bright green eyes, had sailed into their hearts and bewitched them, her excitable, caring, curious personality capturing their every attention every since. She looked so much like Castiel, but she had a cheekiness to her sense of humour that Dean had instilled in her from the minute she could talk, one that everyone who met her was entranced by. 

So much had changed since she’d been born. 

For them, life had taken a turn. When Evie was only six months old, Castiel had returned to work. It had been a bit of a shock to the system for Dean, who’d gotten used to co-parenting, to suddenly feel like a single dad when Cas was off on location for the first two weeks, and both he and Evie missed him terribly. Sick of working every hour under the sun shooting, and sick of missing precious moments as their baby girl grew up, Cas had initiated a frank discussion with both Dean and Naomi, and refused to take on another movie. 

Instead, he’d landed a role on an HBO show, the ratings soaring when he joined due to his prestige. The beauty of it was that the hours were far more regular. He did of course work sometimes late into the evening, but rarely did he work more than a forty hour week any more, and almost never did he have to flit away on location. It was perfect.

Sam was a partner at his law firm now. He’d taken the job in LA and moved out, quickly climbed the ranks and made partner three years later. Dean couldn’t have been more proud of his younger brother. He wondered if their upbringing had helped Sam’s accomplishments, if the lawyer could achieve a deeper understanding of his clientele because of the things they’d all been through in their early life. He and Jess were living in Beverly Hills too, and being so close meant that their young children were growing up together as friends as well as cousins. Tommy, their three year old, had Sammy’s hair, but Castiel always swore the boy was the image of Dean. Not that Dean could see it himself. 

Even for Charlie, life hadn’t ever been better. She’d landed her own talk show off the back of several interviews she’d done following her surrogacy and campaigning for LGBT rights. And it was through her work, that she’d met Gilda. Gilda was an actress and fellow campaigner known for her role in the TV show _Moondoor_ , that had started airing two years ago and quickly blown up, hailed as the next _Game of Thrones_. The actress was pretty, with tanned skin and long dark hair that curled into ringlets, and Charlie had been instantly smitten. They’d been living together for the last eighteen months, and Dean couldn’t ever remember seeing his best friend so happy. 

A cackle snapped Dean out of his reverie, and he looked towards the children to see Lily splashing her arms up and down, sending wave after wave of pool water over both Evie and Tommy who spluttered but were laughing wildly all the same. At his side, Jess uttered her daughter’s name in warning, and Lily ceased her activity, but carried on laughing with a smirk on her lips. Dean wasn’t sure where Lily had got her wicked sense of humour from, but he wasn’t complaining. Watching the children laugh and joke filled his heart with a warm feeling he never wanted to go away. 

Another splash came out of nowhere, then, and having taken his eyes off of them, Dean had no idea who the culprit was. At least not until Tommy started wailing and Evie began looking very guilty, uttering hasty apologies while trying to console her cousin. Jess rushed over to her young son, ready to comfort him about the water that had got in his eyes and to reassure him that he would live, so Dean joined her in heading over to their kids. From the other side of the pool, Castiel and Sam had stopped swimming lengths and were headed over to them too. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy, I didn’t mean to make him sad.” Evie rushed as Dean closed in. The pink cheeked little girl raised her arms, the red inflatable vest she was wearing to keep her afloat rising up to her chin. Dean wrapped his arm around her waist automatically, pulling her in, and she tucked her head under his chin like she was still just a baby. 

“I know honey, did you say sorry?” Dean asked as Cas reached them and with their eyes, they had an entirely non-verbal conversation where Dean filled him in. 

“Yes.” Evie nodded, continuing to look sad. Cas took a step forward then, his hand reaching out to card through their daughter’s hair, that was so similar to his own. 

“I think maybe it’s time for Tommy’s nap, anyway.” Jess said then, lifting her snivelling son onto her hip. Dean was inclined to agree that the boy was probably overtired, they’d all been playing in the pool for a good few hours already, and he could remember some of Evie’s more fantastic tantrums when she’d been denied a nap at that age. 

“I’m sorry, Tommy.” Evie repeated, and as Cas shot him a pleased smile he knew his husband was as proud of their daughter’s manners as he was. The little boy nodded, but buried his face against his mother’s neck all the same as they vacated the pool. 

While Sam went back to playing with Lily, tossing her up in the air only to let her splash back down in the pool while she laughed, Cas pulled in closer to Dean and their daughter, and Dean let his free arm snake around his husband as they stood together, their little family unit. It only lasted for a moment, though, their little girl full of energy, and she squirmed out of their grasp, spinning through the water like a torpedo. 

Castiel grinned as he stepped forward to chase her, and Evie cackled at his pursuit, ducking and dodging his purposefully clumsy arms until she was finally caught. Dean watched them, wearing the brightest of smiles, and Evie’s deep green eyes locked onto his own happily until Cas tickled her, and she begged for freedom between giggles. 

When Cas had finished his assault and Evie had caught her breath, her tiny expression turned strangely contemplative, making her look far older than her four years. Dean’s eyes narrowed automatically, recognising his daughter’s look as curiosity and caution, and he could see Cas side eyeing him as Evie looked them both up and down. 

“Daddy?” Evie piped up, sweet voice a little quieter than usual. Dean nodded, but he was bracing himself, sure that the next words out of his daughter’s mouth would be difficult to deal with. Her eyes were piercing his own in a way that only Castiel had succeeded in before this moment, and it was making him uncomfortable. “Daddy, why do you have marks on your tummy when other daddy doesn’t?” 

And there it was, the moment he’d known would come since he agreed to a family in the first place. He tried to soften his stony expression, tried to keep his airways open and his lungs inflating normally, but even after so long it was a challenge. It had been so many years since he’d suffered, now. He’d been well, they both had, for the years following Evie’s birth. They’d had wobbles, sure, like most new parents would, but they’d seen Nygard if they needed to and kept going with stoicism and strength. 

But how do you explain the true horrors of the world to a four year old? 

Because of his pause, Cas was at his side, and Dean knew that if he didn’t speak in a matter of seconds his husband would take over. He couldn’t let it happen. This was his history to tell, and he had to open his heart to a little girl who had such a big one of her own. 

“Come here.” Dean said quietly, opening his arms out. Evie paddled over to him, eyes still shining with that curiosity. She let her arm wrap over his shoulder while Dean’s tightened around her middle, but they kept looking at each other. 

“You know daddy and I love you very, very much, don’t you?” 

Evie nodded. 

“And you know that we’d never, _ever_ want to hurt you?” 

Again, the tiny little girl nodded, and Dean took a deep breath. 

“When I was little, like you, I lived with Uncle Sam and my daddy.” Dean said, and he knew his voice was getting quieter but it was getting harder to remember how to speak, let alone find the right words to admit his past to his daughter without leaving her traumatised. “My daddy wasn’t very nice.” 

“What did your daddy do?” Evie asked, looking shocked. Castiel tightened his grip on Dean’s shoulder, his other hand finding its way to the small of Evie’s back. Dean glanced at him, and he nodded, smiling softly, in support. 

“Sometimes my daddy hurt me.” Dean admitted while Evie’s face fell. “Lots and lots of the people in the world are good, and wouldn’t hurt anyone.” He continued. “But some people are bad, honey, and they hurt other people. When I go to work, I’m helping people that have been hurt. Lots of them are still little, like I was, and they need help from someone good.”

“So who helped you?” Evie enquired, her eyes full of a sadness Dean wished beyond measure didn’t have to exist. Dean looked over at his husband, and Cas met his eye, expression soft and sorrowful. 

“Your daddy helped me.” Dean said then, gaze trailing back to their daughter’s. “Your daddy helped me to get so much better that we could have you. We met each other when we were the same age as you are now, and he’s been helping me for his whole life.” 

“But you were very strong to look after yourself when you were little.” Castiel interrupted then, eyes shining with pride, a bright smile on his lips. 

“Well maybe I was only so strong because you were.” Dean grinned. 

“I wasn’t strong.” Cas laughed. “I was in love.” 

“So…” Evie trailed off, but their attentions were focused back on her now. “You are both good guys who fight bad guys?” 

“Well…” Cas began, at the same time as Dean started talking. 

“Sort of.” 

“So you’re like superheroes?” Evie asked, eyes bright and excitable. Dean couldn’t help but laugh, and at his side, Cas was chuckling. “Can I be a superhero, too?” 

“You’re already a superhero, honey.” Cas grinned. “You’re our miracle girl.” 

“Miracle girl?” Evie questioned. 

“Yeah.” Dean beamed. “Your superpowers are making everyone around you really happy…” He paused, and lifted the little girl up into the air while she squirmed with excitement and anticipation. He went to let go as he spoke and she let out a happy laugh. “And flying through the air.” 

  
****

**Don’t look back in anger,**

I heard you say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say! It feels like an end of an era for me, I've spent almost eighteen months on this series and that's it, done. It's been so worth it for all of your feedback and support so thank you for keeping me going. It's been really rewarding. Love to you all!
> 
> I currently have no plans for a fourth part, but I'm pretty impulsive so you never know. 
> 
> There's another thing in my head right now that might demand an out when it's more fully formed but it's entirely different.


End file.
